Where Angels Fear to Tread - Part 3
###
Buffy was feeling extremely worried. They didn't know much more than before, but there was little doubt that the disappearance of the Butcher Knight's sword was not a good sign. They had to find Angel, he was the only one who could presumably tell him what was going on here.
Giles and Willow were going to contact the Council for more information on the Butcher Knight, hoping that some records existed somewhere in a dusty cellar or something. Xander was going to visit Willy the Snitch, prepared to dish out some money in order to get some information about Darla and where she might be hiding.
Buffy was patrolling, hoping against hope to find a trace of Angel.
Or the Butcher Knight.
She carried more than her usual arsenal of weapons. A stake would be of little use against a guy wearing armor and wielding a sword. Giles had given her a sword from his weapons' chest, along with some knives and a small ax.
Times like these, she wished for a gun.
For the past few minutes she had felt uneasy, as if someone was following her. It was a bit like the tingle she always got when there were Vampires close by, but not the same. It was much stronger, like a little demon in the back of her head, using barbed drumsticks on her brain.
She was passing through an alley close to the Bronze when she finally felt certain. There was someone close by. Someone who, all of a sudden, didn't seem to care anymore whether she knew of his presence or not. Steps came closer through the darkness and Buffy tensed, eyes trying to penetrate the darkness.
A huge shadow separated from the walls and became a solid figure that was slowly walking toward her. A man, six feet eight or more by the looks of him, dressed in black. She could not see his face yet, but there was little doubt in her mind. She had seen this man in her dreams. Amber demon eyes glowed in the dark.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said, coming closer, "but traffic was murder."
She could see him better now. He wore black leather pants and a black, unbuttoned shirt. His chest was gleaming marble beneath it, looking very inviting to a girl without a boyfriend. What few notions she might have had were quickly banished, though. She could see the sword strapped to his back.
His face came into the light of the street lamps and she gasped. She had seen his face in her dream, yet had not really seen it. The only thing she had remembered where the demon eyes. Now she saw the whole thing.
#
"Yes, thank you." Giles put down the receiver.
"Anything?" Willow asked.
"A bit, at least. It seems that the Butcher Knight did make some scattered appearances in the last thousand years, though it seems he was quite different from before."
"How so?"
Giles sat down, rubbing his tired eyes.
"The early accounts tell of the Butcher Knight just wading into towns, slaughtering everyone that crossed his path, until he found the Slayer. If no Slayer was to be found he just continued on. He seemed little more than a mindless engine of destruction."
He took the notebook where he had written down what he had been told over the phone.
"Somewhere around the turn of the millennium, though, something changed. The Butcher Knight stopped his senseless slaughter and vanished for a long time. His next recorded appearance does not happen until almost two centuries later. He presumably killed a Slayer in Italy and instead of just slaughtering whomever stood between her and him, he seemed to go at it with what the Watcher of that time called 'a streak of sadistic playfulness'. He killed only very few people and only those who were near and dear to the Slayer."
Willow shivered, realizing who the people closest to the Slayer were this time around.
"Any idea how this change came about?"
Giles studied his notes and Willow could see the gleam of a thought beginning to appear in his eyes.
"There is a possibility. Buffy said that this Vampire, Darla, she used some kind of incantation on Mr. Fitzpatrick."
He suddenly rose, searching through his collection for another book.
"The lore said that the Butcher Knight was like a Vampire, yet without the weaknesses. Maybe ... ah, here it is."
He put the book down on the table and Willow looked at the page he had opened.
"There is a species of demons called 'Etrigani'. Powerful warrior demons who can be summoned only by the most skilled of sorcerers. The Etrigani are little more than killing machines and nearly unstoppable."
"Sounds like what we read about the Butcher Knight," Willow said, worried about Buffy.
"Yes. What makes these Etrigani so interesting is they can either be bodily summoned to the Earth plane or they can be summoned to rise inside a mortal host, much like Vampires. I would suspect that, if the latter happens, the host's personality would, to a certain degree, influence the deeds of the Etrigani."
"So you think," Willow said, understanding, "that this change in attitude happened because the Butcher Knight got a host or something? Like, he started out all 'ride on and slaughter everyone', but his host liked to do things with a little more, I don't know, sick sort of finesse?"
Giles nodded.
"It would also explain Buffy's dream. She saw Mr. Fitzpatrick and the Butcher Knight, two separate beings. Back then the Knight was still the demon incarnate, slaughtering people where they stood. But sometime soon after that the demon was bound to a mortal host."
"And ... and you think that host, he is ..."
#
"Angel?" Buffy whispered.
He looked like Angel, yet he did not. It was like someone had taken Angel's face and then remade it into something completely different. There were vampire ridges, yet they weren't as prominent as with most Vampires. The demon eyes seemed to glow brightly in the night. The fangs in his mouth glistened.
"Close, but no cigar."
He stopped several feet away from her, looking down. He was taller than Angel, that much was certain, much more muscular. His skin was not pale as that of most Vampires. He almost looked tanned, actually.
"You're the Butcher Knight."
"I never much liked that nickname," he said, "though it does fit. What can I say? Those were barbaric times back then. Demons were expected to ride through the night in black armor and slaughter everyone they met."
He laughed and it sent a chill down her spine.
"Times change," he continued. "These days I would look pretty ridiculous running through the streets in that outfit, don't you think? And I don't think there is a horse within a hundred miles of here. Too bad."
He reached behind his back and slowly drew the sword from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the light of the street lamps.
"Some things never change, though. Especially not the important ones."
Buffy drew her own sword, trying to get a sense of her opponent. Angel? She wasn't sure. Whatever, he was a big fellow, outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds. He had nearly twice her reach, especially with that long sword, and he held the heavy blade like it weighed nothing.
"Do you need a sword that long to cover for certain inadequacies?" Buffy taunted him, feeling the need to do something. She didn't think rushing him was a good idea. If he truly was over a thousand years old odds were he had a lot more experience in using that sword than she had.
"Maybe I should show you my inadequacies somewhere between now and your ugly death, Chosen One. Would you like that? I think you would."
He leaned in a bit closer, keeping the sword back.
"I know how you always stared during the classes. I could feel the lust welling up inside you. Do you like it rough?"
Without warning he started attacking. The blade arced through the air and she just managed to jump backwards. She didn't want to go blade to blade with him. Her own sword seemed small and fragile beside his.
"This is going to be fun," the Knight said and attacked her again.
###
Buffy was fighting for her life.
In her three years as the Slayer she had met several opponents she considered her match. Luke, the Master, Spike, Faith, but in the end she had beaten them all. Here, though, today, she was nowhere near so sure.
The Butcher Knight did not seem to be in any kind of a hurry. He moved methodically, aiming to take her apart inch by inch. On the third strike she had been too slow and now her sword lay on the ground, shattered in two by the Knight's monstrous blade. She defended herself using battle axe and knife, but she didn't even manage to get inside the arc of that sword.
She was bleeding from several small cuts on her shoulders and legs. Those could have been much deeper, she felt, but the Knight didn't seem interested in finishing her off all that quickly.
She managed a surprise attack and the Knight took a step back, looking at the bloody gash on his chest.
"You really are in love with this body, aren't you?" He smirked, pausing a moment to rip his shirt away. He stood, naked from the waist up, and Buffy watched as the gash healed in seconds.
"Bruce Lee knew why he was always fighting shirtless," the Knight said. "Much better effect on the chicks."
He was upon her again almost before she could react and her momentary lapse earned her a deep cut across her stomach, ripping her blouse apart. She took a moment to check the wound, found it wasn't deep, but soon blood loss would begin to be a problem. She was amazed at how calm she still felt. Things didn't look good after all.
Suddenly the world around her shifted and her vision blurred. For a brief moment she was in another place. Stone walls, candlelight, a large bed with curtains around it. Someone came in through the door and she felt her lips stretch into a broad smile. A shimmer of knight's armor. Her husband.
"Beloved, I missed you!"
Next she knew she was evading another strike of the Knight, losing a few locks of hair in the process. She threw one of her remaining knives, more out of reflex than conscious thought, and the short blade glanced along the Knight's shoulder, leaving a shallow cut. A cut that healed in seconds.
"Pay attention, will you?" The Knight complained.
What had that been? She could still see afterimages burnt into her eyes. A bedroom. A man in shining knight's armor. A face. Angel? How was that possible?
She stumbled backwards and only just managed to roll away before the sword struck the concrete floor where she had been only moments before. Laughter filled the air, but not the Knight's throaty roar. A woman's laughter, totally out of place in this dark alley. Buffy looked up and saw the Vampire called Darla sit on a fire escape not far away, watching the scene.
"Kill her slowly, Angelus," she cheered. "Let her drown in her own fear!"
"With pleasure," the Knight growled. Angelus? Was that his name?
The Knight was beginning to herd her toward the dead end of the alley, but the appearance of Darla had given Buffy an idea. Maybe she couldn't hurt this creature, but she knew all about hurting Vampires. And maybe, if the Knight was on Darla's leash or something, ...
When he struck again Buffy vaulted over him and hit the ground running.
"No running away, Chosen One," he yelled after her, his running steps making the ground shake. "There is nowhere for you to hide."
"And who's hiding?"
She reached the bottom of the fire escape, jumped nearly ten feet straight up, and swung up to the level Darla was sitting on. The Vampire seemed completely surprised and had barely begun to move when Buffy's boot caught her in the face.
Buffy felt the fire escape shake as the Knight began making his way up, moving his large body much faster than she would have thought possible. She drew a stake from her ruined jacket and straddled Darla's prone form.
"Back off or she's dust," she yelled toward the Knight.
He stopped, but a few steps away from them, sword already raised for the kill. Buffy kept the stake poised on the flesh above Darla's unbeating heart, the Vampire's eyes glancing up at her full of rage. Buffy was panting from exhaustion.
"Drop the sword! Come on, drop it!"
The Knight complied and the blade hit the floor of the alley below. She could feel his demon eyes burning holes into her, but he made no offensive move.
"Now, climb up the fire escape and don't stop until you hit the roof!"
He started climbing up the steps with a speed no human could have matched, reaching the roof in seconds. On the last step he seemed to stumble, foot slipping. A loose piece of metal tumbled down the fire escape and Buffy's eyes involuntarily followed it. She had a second to realize that she'd made a stupid mistake.
Darla came to life below her, using the distraction to swat the stake away. Her other hand closed around Buffy's throat and the Slayer found herself lifted bodily off the prone Vampire, choking.
"Nice idea," Darla said, slamming her body against the wall, "but lacking in execution."
Buffy was on the verge of blacking out and put all her strength into one last kick, managing to dislodge the hand. Darla was fighting for balance on the edge of the iron railing. From the corner of her eyes Buffy saw that the Knight was on his way down again.
Buffy sent Darla flying with another kick. The entire walkway shook and moments later she saw the reason why. The Knight had jumped off the fire escape, twisting in mid-air. A movement caught her eye in the alley below and she watched with amazement as the sword left the ground and flew toward its owner.
The Butcher Knight caught his sword in mid-air as he was halfway down the fire escape. Buffy didn't even have time to react. He swung the sword and his downward momentum made it shear through four levels of fire escape. The entire metal construct came apart and Buffy screamed as she lost her footing, everything around her tumbling down.
She had the distant impression of hitting the ground, then there was only darkness.
###
It was a gray day and Buffy stood on a field of grass that might have been green once, but all she saw when she looked down was red. Blood. So much blood.
There were some burnt-out remains of huts in the distance, some of them still smoking as embers sizzled beneath the light rain that soaked into her robes. As she walked the ground beneath her squished, soaked with rain and blood.
The ground was littered with bodies. Men in armor that might have been shining once, but was now stained with dirt, rust, and blood. Empty eyes looked up at her, regarding her with the kind of supreme disinterest only the departed managed.
Only a few solitary figures were moving in the distance and Buffy found that her feet were carrying her toward a small group she could see standing beside a horse-drawn carriage. She could see one figure kneeling on the ground, one hand gently touching one of the bodies.
"It was not your fault," one of the standing men said. The words sounded strange, not English. English was the only language she knew, though Giles would probably say that was debatable, but she understood them nevertheless.
"It was my duty to protect her and I failed," the kneeling man said. His face was covered by the strands of his long hair, but the voice was familiar.
"Angel?"
None of them seemed aware of her presence. The standing man put a hand to Angel's shoulder.
"She is at peace now. I know how much you loved her, my friend, but our duty must now be to whomever God has chosen next. We have to find her before the Butcher does."
Angel pushed the other man away and rose to his feet, his face a mask of pain and fury.
"And what will it achieve if we do? This abomination can not be stopped by sword or arrow. We will only lose again. Nearly a thousand men came to stop it and they all died. For naught!"
"With God's help we will ..."
"God has no power here," Angel screamed. "A thousand knights sworn to his service and he could not help them. The cross does not repel this monster. If God's grace can not aid me in battle then I renounce him!"
The other men edged back from him, scared by the burning intensity they saw in his eyes.
"Your grief does not excuse heresy!"
"Leave! All of you! Crawl back into your churches and pray! I will find a way to stop the Butcher Knight without help of God."
He knelt down, giving the prone form one final kiss on her dead lips. Only now did Buffy see that it was a young woman, little more than a girl, wearing battle armor. The armor was broken, the flesh beneath it torn and shredded.
Without a doubt Buffy knew that this had been the Slayer, the one she had dreamed of being before. The Butcher Knight had killed her.
Angel sheathed his sword and jumped on the back of a horse, riding toward the burnt-out village.
#
"Wakey, wakey!"
The sound penetrated past the haze of unconsciousness and Buffy slowly came awake again. The last thing she remembered before that strange dream was the collapsing fire escape and a long fall into the alley below. As if in response her body began to hurt.
Opening her eyes she saw a tangled mess of bent steel and metal girders, surrounding her like a spiders' web. Pain shot through her legs and arms as she tried to move, bringing tears to her eyes.
"Looks like someone has gotten her wings plugged on the way down."
The Butcher Knight stood only meters away, smirking at her. Darla stood half a step behind him, smiling broadly. Neither of them looked very hurt.
"You gave a good accounting of yourself," the Knight complimented her, "but in the end it doesn't make a difference, deary. All Chosen Ones die at my hands. It has always been like this."
She looked into his eyes and suddenly she knew. She knew what had happened to him, if not how. This was not the creature she had seen in her first dream. He looked like Angel and she knew why.
"Not always, has it?" she asked him, trying to ignore the pain. "There was a time you protected the Chosen One, Angel! You fought against Darla and her creature to protect her, do you remember that?"
For a moment the Knight seemed confused, shaking his head.
"You confuse him with the flesh he wears," Darla said, "and such adorable flesh."
She slid her hands across his nude upper body, snuggling into his side like a kitten.
"This, my dear, is Angelus. My Butcher Knight. And now he will kill you!"
She left his side and motioned for him to proceed. The Knight shook his head again and started to move toward Buffy, who was still pinned beneath the metal.
"Remember who you are, Angel," she demanded. "You fought against her! You were desperate because you failed to protect the Slayer from her creature. You were ready to do anything to stop the Butcher Knight. You can do it now! You're stronger than he is!"
She grew desperate as he came closer, her words seemingly without effect. She couldn't move as he stood before her, starting to raise his sword.
"Angel, please! Remember how much you loved her!"
A shiver went through the Knight's body and he hesitated. His demon eyes looked down upon his helpless victim and Buffy had the distinct impression that he was not seeing her, but someone else. Someone who had died over a thousand years ago.
"Beloved?" he whispered, his voice not that of the demon.
"Kill her," Darla screamed. "What are you waiting for?"
He turned around to look at her and there was fire in his eyes.
"Be ... Be Gone ...," he began, his voice shaking.
"No," Darla yelled, coming closer. The Knight swatted her away with a backhand, then bent over as if in pain.
"Be Gone ... Angelus, Butcher Knight!"
Darla rose, looking at him with fear in her eyes.
"Be Banished Back Into the Night!"
"Stop! I command you! You are my creature, bound to me by blood!"
The Knight ignored her, having fallen to his knees.
"The New Day's Dawn Shall Be ... Shall Be Your Ban!"
Energy sparkled around him, arcs of electricity running across his flesh like fingers, making him scream in pain. The sword fell to the ground, trailing energy behind it like a comet's tail. Darla screamed, demon face showing. Buffy suddenly noticed that one of her stakes was lying close to her hand.
"Angelus," Darla was by his side, her hands on his shoulders.
"Return Once More in Form of Man," the Knight screamed and Buffy had to close her eyes, the light around him flared into brilliance. Darla stumbled back and Buffy managed to get her arm free of the metal.
The light faded after a second, shadows pooling in behind it, the light of the street lamps seeming like darkest night in comparison. Where the Butcher Knight had knelt but moments ago a man slid to the ground, groaning in pain.
"No," Darla yelled again, coming closer once more. "You bastard! You think you have achieved something?"
She kicked the prone figure and he groaned again, clutching his side.
"You have achieved nothing! What you have done, I can undo!"
She smiled and her eyes sparkled.
"By Bond of Blood I Call the Might. Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light. I Curse ..."
Before she could finish the incantation Buffy finally managed to prop herself up and let the stake fly with all her remaining strength. Her aim was unsteady, though, and she didn't hit the heart. Instead the wooden projectile buried itself in Darla's throat.
The Vampire reared back in pain, trying to scream, but only a gurgled sound emerged. She stumbled, stood again, hands trying to pull out the stake without success. Moments later, seeing that Angel was on the verge of getting back to his feet, she took off running.
Buffy leaned back, the pain from her movements only now becoming real. Angel rose on his elbows, looking at her with eyes that were thoroughly human again.
"Angel," she whispered.
"You ... you're not her," he managed, his throat raw from the screaming. Moments later he collapsed again.
TO BE CONTINUED
###
Buffy was feeling extremely worried. They didn't know much more than before, but there was little doubt that the disappearance of the Butcher Knight's sword was not a good sign. They had to find Angel, he was the only one who could presumably tell him what was going on here.
Giles and Willow were going to contact the Council for more information on the Butcher Knight, hoping that some records existed somewhere in a dusty cellar or something. Xander was going to visit Willy the Snitch, prepared to dish out some money in order to get some information about Darla and where she might be hiding.
Buffy was patrolling, hoping against hope to find a trace of Angel.
Or the Butcher Knight.
She carried more than her usual arsenal of weapons. A stake would be of little use against a guy wearing armor and wielding a sword. Giles had given her a sword from his weapons' chest, along with some knives and a small ax.
Times like these, she wished for a gun.
For the past few minutes she had felt uneasy, as if someone was following her. It was a bit like the tingle she always got when there were Vampires close by, but not the same. It was much stronger, like a little demon in the back of her head, using barbed drumsticks on her brain.
She was passing through an alley close to the Bronze when she finally felt certain. There was someone close by. Someone who, all of a sudden, didn't seem to care anymore whether she knew of his presence or not. Steps came closer through the darkness and Buffy tensed, eyes trying to penetrate the darkness.
A huge shadow separated from the walls and became a solid figure that was slowly walking toward her. A man, six feet eight or more by the looks of him, dressed in black. She could not see his face yet, but there was little doubt in her mind. She had seen this man in her dreams. Amber demon eyes glowed in the dark.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said, coming closer, "but traffic was murder."
She could see him better now. He wore black leather pants and a black, unbuttoned shirt. His chest was gleaming marble beneath it, looking very inviting to a girl without a boyfriend. What few notions she might have had were quickly banished, though. She could see the sword strapped to his back.
His face came into the light of the street lamps and she gasped. She had seen his face in her dream, yet had not really seen it. The only thing she had remembered where the demon eyes. Now she saw the whole thing.
#
"Yes, thank you." Giles put down the receiver.
"Anything?" Willow asked.
"A bit, at least. It seems that the Butcher Knight did make some scattered appearances in the last thousand years, though it seems he was quite different from before."
"How so?"
Giles sat down, rubbing his tired eyes.
"The early accounts tell of the Butcher Knight just wading into towns, slaughtering everyone that crossed his path, until he found the Slayer. If no Slayer was to be found he just continued on. He seemed little more than a mindless engine of destruction."
He took the notebook where he had written down what he had been told over the phone.
"Somewhere around the turn of the millennium, though, something changed. The Butcher Knight stopped his senseless slaughter and vanished for a long time. His next recorded appearance does not happen until almost two centuries later. He presumably killed a Slayer in Italy and instead of just slaughtering whomever stood between her and him, he seemed to go at it with what the Watcher of that time called 'a streak of sadistic playfulness'. He killed only very few people and only those who were near and dear to the Slayer."
Willow shivered, realizing who the people closest to the Slayer were this time around.
"Any idea how this change came about?"
Giles studied his notes and Willow could see the gleam of a thought beginning to appear in his eyes.
"There is a possibility. Buffy said that this Vampire, Darla, she used some kind of incantation on Mr. Fitzpatrick."
He suddenly rose, searching through his collection for another book.
"The lore said that the Butcher Knight was like a Vampire, yet without the weaknesses. Maybe ... ah, here it is."
He put the book down on the table and Willow looked at the page he had opened.
"There is a species of demons called 'Etrigani'. Powerful warrior demons who can be summoned only by the most skilled of sorcerers. The Etrigani are little more than killing machines and nearly unstoppable."
"Sounds like what we read about the Butcher Knight," Willow said, worried about Buffy.
"Yes. What makes these Etrigani so interesting is they can either be bodily summoned to the Earth plane or they can be summoned to rise inside a mortal host, much like Vampires. I would suspect that, if the latter happens, the host's personality would, to a certain degree, influence the deeds of the Etrigani."
"So you think," Willow said, understanding, "that this change in attitude happened because the Butcher Knight got a host or something? Like, he started out all 'ride on and slaughter everyone', but his host liked to do things with a little more, I don't know, sick sort of finesse?"
Giles nodded.
"It would also explain Buffy's dream. She saw Mr. Fitzpatrick and the Butcher Knight, two separate beings. Back then the Knight was still the demon incarnate, slaughtering people where they stood. But sometime soon after that the demon was bound to a mortal host."
"And ... and you think that host, he is ..."
#
"Angel?" Buffy whispered.
He looked like Angel, yet he did not. It was like someone had taken Angel's face and then remade it into something completely different. There were vampire ridges, yet they weren't as prominent as with most Vampires. The demon eyes seemed to glow brightly in the night. The fangs in his mouth glistened.
"Close, but no cigar."
He stopped several feet away from her, looking down. He was taller than Angel, that much was certain, much more muscular. His skin was not pale as that of most Vampires. He almost looked tanned, actually.
"You're the Butcher Knight."
"I never much liked that nickname," he said, "though it does fit. What can I say? Those were barbaric times back then. Demons were expected to ride through the night in black armor and slaughter everyone they met."
He laughed and it sent a chill down her spine.
"Times change," he continued. "These days I would look pretty ridiculous running through the streets in that outfit, don't you think? And I don't think there is a horse within a hundred miles of here. Too bad."
He reached behind his back and slowly drew the sword from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the light of the street lamps.
"Some things never change, though. Especially not the important ones."
Buffy drew her own sword, trying to get a sense of her opponent. Angel? She wasn't sure. Whatever, he was a big fellow, outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds. He had nearly twice her reach, especially with that long sword, and he held the heavy blade like it weighed nothing.
"Do you need a sword that long to cover for certain inadequacies?" Buffy taunted him, feeling the need to do something. She didn't think rushing him was a good idea. If he truly was over a thousand years old odds were he had a lot more experience in using that sword than she had.
"Maybe I should show you my inadequacies somewhere between now and your ugly death, Chosen One. Would you like that? I think you would."
He leaned in a bit closer, keeping the sword back.
"I know how you always stared during the classes. I could feel the lust welling up inside you. Do you like it rough?"
Without warning he started attacking. The blade arced through the air and she just managed to jump backwards. She didn't want to go blade to blade with him. Her own sword seemed small and fragile beside his.
"This is going to be fun," the Knight said and attacked her again.
###
Buffy was fighting for her life.
In her three years as the Slayer she had met several opponents she considered her match. Luke, the Master, Spike, Faith, but in the end she had beaten them all. Here, though, today, she was nowhere near so sure.
The Butcher Knight did not seem to be in any kind of a hurry. He moved methodically, aiming to take her apart inch by inch. On the third strike she had been too slow and now her sword lay on the ground, shattered in two by the Knight's monstrous blade. She defended herself using battle axe and knife, but she didn't even manage to get inside the arc of that sword.
She was bleeding from several small cuts on her shoulders and legs. Those could have been much deeper, she felt, but the Knight didn't seem interested in finishing her off all that quickly.
She managed a surprise attack and the Knight took a step back, looking at the bloody gash on his chest.
"You really are in love with this body, aren't you?" He smirked, pausing a moment to rip his shirt away. He stood, naked from the waist up, and Buffy watched as the gash healed in seconds.
"Bruce Lee knew why he was always fighting shirtless," the Knight said. "Much better effect on the chicks."
He was upon her again almost before she could react and her momentary lapse earned her a deep cut across her stomach, ripping her blouse apart. She took a moment to check the wound, found it wasn't deep, but soon blood loss would begin to be a problem. She was amazed at how calm she still felt. Things didn't look good after all.
Suddenly the world around her shifted and her vision blurred. For a brief moment she was in another place. Stone walls, candlelight, a large bed with curtains around it. Someone came in through the door and she felt her lips stretch into a broad smile. A shimmer of knight's armor. Her husband.
"Beloved, I missed you!"
Next she knew she was evading another strike of the Knight, losing a few locks of hair in the process. She threw one of her remaining knives, more out of reflex than conscious thought, and the short blade glanced along the Knight's shoulder, leaving a shallow cut. A cut that healed in seconds.
"Pay attention, will you?" The Knight complained.
What had that been? She could still see afterimages burnt into her eyes. A bedroom. A man in shining knight's armor. A face. Angel? How was that possible?
She stumbled backwards and only just managed to roll away before the sword struck the concrete floor where she had been only moments before. Laughter filled the air, but not the Knight's throaty roar. A woman's laughter, totally out of place in this dark alley. Buffy looked up and saw the Vampire called Darla sit on a fire escape not far away, watching the scene.
"Kill her slowly, Angelus," she cheered. "Let her drown in her own fear!"
"With pleasure," the Knight growled. Angelus? Was that his name?
The Knight was beginning to herd her toward the dead end of the alley, but the appearance of Darla had given Buffy an idea. Maybe she couldn't hurt this creature, but she knew all about hurting Vampires. And maybe, if the Knight was on Darla's leash or something, ...
When he struck again Buffy vaulted over him and hit the ground running.
"No running away, Chosen One," he yelled after her, his running steps making the ground shake. "There is nowhere for you to hide."
"And who's hiding?"
She reached the bottom of the fire escape, jumped nearly ten feet straight up, and swung up to the level Darla was sitting on. The Vampire seemed completely surprised and had barely begun to move when Buffy's boot caught her in the face.
Buffy felt the fire escape shake as the Knight began making his way up, moving his large body much faster than she would have thought possible. She drew a stake from her ruined jacket and straddled Darla's prone form.
"Back off or she's dust," she yelled toward the Knight.
He stopped, but a few steps away from them, sword already raised for the kill. Buffy kept the stake poised on the flesh above Darla's unbeating heart, the Vampire's eyes glancing up at her full of rage. Buffy was panting from exhaustion.
"Drop the sword! Come on, drop it!"
The Knight complied and the blade hit the floor of the alley below. She could feel his demon eyes burning holes into her, but he made no offensive move.
"Now, climb up the fire escape and don't stop until you hit the roof!"
He started climbing up the steps with a speed no human could have matched, reaching the roof in seconds. On the last step he seemed to stumble, foot slipping. A loose piece of metal tumbled down the fire escape and Buffy's eyes involuntarily followed it. She had a second to realize that she'd made a stupid mistake.
Darla came to life below her, using the distraction to swat the stake away. Her other hand closed around Buffy's throat and the Slayer found herself lifted bodily off the prone Vampire, choking.
"Nice idea," Darla said, slamming her body against the wall, "but lacking in execution."
Buffy was on the verge of blacking out and put all her strength into one last kick, managing to dislodge the hand. Darla was fighting for balance on the edge of the iron railing. From the corner of her eyes Buffy saw that the Knight was on his way down again.
Buffy sent Darla flying with another kick. The entire walkway shook and moments later she saw the reason why. The Knight had jumped off the fire escape, twisting in mid-air. A movement caught her eye in the alley below and she watched with amazement as the sword left the ground and flew toward its owner.
The Butcher Knight caught his sword in mid-air as he was halfway down the fire escape. Buffy didn't even have time to react. He swung the sword and his downward momentum made it shear through four levels of fire escape. The entire metal construct came apart and Buffy screamed as she lost her footing, everything around her tumbling down.
She had the distant impression of hitting the ground, then there was only darkness.
###
It was a gray day and Buffy stood on a field of grass that might have been green once, but all she saw when she looked down was red. Blood. So much blood.
There were some burnt-out remains of huts in the distance, some of them still smoking as embers sizzled beneath the light rain that soaked into her robes. As she walked the ground beneath her squished, soaked with rain and blood.
The ground was littered with bodies. Men in armor that might have been shining once, but was now stained with dirt, rust, and blood. Empty eyes looked up at her, regarding her with the kind of supreme disinterest only the departed managed.
Only a few solitary figures were moving in the distance and Buffy found that her feet were carrying her toward a small group she could see standing beside a horse-drawn carriage. She could see one figure kneeling on the ground, one hand gently touching one of the bodies.
"It was not your fault," one of the standing men said. The words sounded strange, not English. English was the only language she knew, though Giles would probably say that was debatable, but she understood them nevertheless.
"It was my duty to protect her and I failed," the kneeling man said. His face was covered by the strands of his long hair, but the voice was familiar.
"Angel?"
None of them seemed aware of her presence. The standing man put a hand to Angel's shoulder.
"She is at peace now. I know how much you loved her, my friend, but our duty must now be to whomever God has chosen next. We have to find her before the Butcher does."
Angel pushed the other man away and rose to his feet, his face a mask of pain and fury.
"And what will it achieve if we do? This abomination can not be stopped by sword or arrow. We will only lose again. Nearly a thousand men came to stop it and they all died. For naught!"
"With God's help we will ..."
"God has no power here," Angel screamed. "A thousand knights sworn to his service and he could not help them. The cross does not repel this monster. If God's grace can not aid me in battle then I renounce him!"
The other men edged back from him, scared by the burning intensity they saw in his eyes.
"Your grief does not excuse heresy!"
"Leave! All of you! Crawl back into your churches and pray! I will find a way to stop the Butcher Knight without help of God."
He knelt down, giving the prone form one final kiss on her dead lips. Only now did Buffy see that it was a young woman, little more than a girl, wearing battle armor. The armor was broken, the flesh beneath it torn and shredded.
Without a doubt Buffy knew that this had been the Slayer, the one she had dreamed of being before. The Butcher Knight had killed her.
Angel sheathed his sword and jumped on the back of a horse, riding toward the burnt-out village.
#
"Wakey, wakey!"
The sound penetrated past the haze of unconsciousness and Buffy slowly came awake again. The last thing she remembered before that strange dream was the collapsing fire escape and a long fall into the alley below. As if in response her body began to hurt.
Opening her eyes she saw a tangled mess of bent steel and metal girders, surrounding her like a spiders' web. Pain shot through her legs and arms as she tried to move, bringing tears to her eyes.
"Looks like someone has gotten her wings plugged on the way down."
The Butcher Knight stood only meters away, smirking at her. Darla stood half a step behind him, smiling broadly. Neither of them looked very hurt.
"You gave a good accounting of yourself," the Knight complimented her, "but in the end it doesn't make a difference, deary. All Chosen Ones die at my hands. It has always been like this."
She looked into his eyes and suddenly she knew. She knew what had happened to him, if not how. This was not the creature she had seen in her first dream. He looked like Angel and she knew why.
"Not always, has it?" she asked him, trying to ignore the pain. "There was a time you protected the Chosen One, Angel! You fought against Darla and her creature to protect her, do you remember that?"
For a moment the Knight seemed confused, shaking his head.
"You confuse him with the flesh he wears," Darla said, "and such adorable flesh."
She slid her hands across his nude upper body, snuggling into his side like a kitten.
"This, my dear, is Angelus. My Butcher Knight. And now he will kill you!"
She left his side and motioned for him to proceed. The Knight shook his head again and started to move toward Buffy, who was still pinned beneath the metal.
"Remember who you are, Angel," she demanded. "You fought against her! You were desperate because you failed to protect the Slayer from her creature. You were ready to do anything to stop the Butcher Knight. You can do it now! You're stronger than he is!"
She grew desperate as he came closer, her words seemingly without effect. She couldn't move as he stood before her, starting to raise his sword.
"Angel, please! Remember how much you loved her!"
A shiver went through the Knight's body and he hesitated. His demon eyes looked down upon his helpless victim and Buffy had the distinct impression that he was not seeing her, but someone else. Someone who had died over a thousand years ago.
"Beloved?" he whispered, his voice not that of the demon.
"Kill her," Darla screamed. "What are you waiting for?"
He turned around to look at her and there was fire in his eyes.
"Be ... Be Gone ...," he began, his voice shaking.
"No," Darla yelled, coming closer. The Knight swatted her away with a backhand, then bent over as if in pain.
"Be Gone ... Angelus, Butcher Knight!"
Darla rose, looking at him with fear in her eyes.
"Be Banished Back Into the Night!"
"Stop! I command you! You are my creature, bound to me by blood!"
The Knight ignored her, having fallen to his knees.
"The New Day's Dawn Shall Be ... Shall Be Your Ban!"
Energy sparkled around him, arcs of electricity running across his flesh like fingers, making him scream in pain. The sword fell to the ground, trailing energy behind it like a comet's tail. Darla screamed, demon face showing. Buffy suddenly noticed that one of her stakes was lying close to her hand.
"Angelus," Darla was by his side, her hands on his shoulders.
"Return Once More in Form of Man," the Knight screamed and Buffy had to close her eyes, the light around him flared into brilliance. Darla stumbled back and Buffy managed to get her arm free of the metal.
The light faded after a second, shadows pooling in behind it, the light of the street lamps seeming like darkest night in comparison. Where the Butcher Knight had knelt but moments ago a man slid to the ground, groaning in pain.
"No," Darla yelled again, coming closer once more. "You bastard! You think you have achieved something?"
She kicked the prone figure and he groaned again, clutching his side.
"You have achieved nothing! What you have done, I can undo!"
She smiled and her eyes sparkled.
"By Bond of Blood I Call the Might. Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light. I Curse ..."
Before she could finish the incantation Buffy finally managed to prop herself up and let the stake fly with all her remaining strength. Her aim was unsteady, though, and she didn't hit the heart. Instead the wooden projectile buried itself in Darla's throat.
The Vampire reared back in pain, trying to scream, but only a gurgled sound emerged. She stumbled, stood again, hands trying to pull out the stake without success. Moments later, seeing that Angel was on the verge of getting back to his feet, she took off running.
Buffy leaned back, the pain from her movements only now becoming real. Angel rose on his elbows, looking at her with eyes that were thoroughly human again.
"Angel," she whispered.
"You ... you're not her," he managed, his throat raw from the screaming. Moments later he collapsed again.
TO BE CONTINUED