Part 7: Riley
Tuesday Morning
#
My head is still spinning with everything I have learned these last two days. On Saturday night I found myself fighting creatures right out of a fairy tale, creatures who had stolen the voices of everyone here in Sunnydale in order to get seven hearts for whatever purpose. I knew a lot of strange things were going on in this deceptively quiet little town, but this ...
Buffy. Buffy Summers. College girl. Beautiful blonde girl, a smile that makes my heart melt. I think I fell for her the moment I first saw her, the sun shining down on her, the rays sparkling in her hair, bringing out the colors in the summer dress she wore. God, she was so beautiful.
All that no longer matters, though. Not after what I learned on Sunday morning. Buffy Summers, this frail little girl, is the Slayer. Slayer, the, as she said. She who hangs out in cemeteries. The chosen one.
The one the Initiative has been looking for ever since we came here.
I remember how Walsh gave us the lowdown. The Slayer. A supernatural warrior, a human imbued with demon strength, all the powers of a Vampire, but without the weaknesses. Fighting to protect humanity from the demons, having done so for centuries.
Walsh wants her. The government wants her. Though the public is not aware of it, the world is filled with creatures science can not explain. Humanity is not the top of the food chain, nowhere close. We rule the world, but only because there are so many of us. We have to keep it that way. Protect the civilians from the things that go bump in the night.
For that we need the Slayer.
It sounded a lot better and convincing when the Slayer was just an abstract. No more real than all the different demon species we read up about. Not a human being, certainly not. A supernatural entity, no more human than a Vampire. Its sole purpose is the protection of us humans, so using it to do just that can't be a bad thing, right?
The Slayer is a girl, though. A beautiful blonde girl with a smile to die for.
I did my duty, though. I reported to Walsh that I found the Slayer. That she had been under our noses all this time, actually. Walsh didn't believe me at first when I told her that one of her students in psych class was the Slayer. I convinced her, though.
Why in hell did I have to convince her?
Walsh wanted the Slayer captured and once again I did my duty. Riley Finn, good little soldier, always doing what he is told. Called her, told her we needed to talk, asked her if she could come over to Lowell House.
We waited for her. Six Initiative soldiers armed with taser guns. She walked in the door, not suspecting a thing. After all her good friend Riley Finn had called her over for a talk. In bright daylight. What possible danger could lurk?
The first taser blast brought her to her knees. The rucksack she used to carry all her student stuff fell from her hands, spilling its contents out on the floor. Her body was shaking from the electric burst, but her eyes never moved. They only looked at me, screaming a silent question at me.
Why? Why did I do this?
She actually got up after that first blast. Got back to her feet, though unsteadily, and tried to fight. It took two more taser blasts to finally bring her down. Her beautiful form slipped to the floor and didn't move anymore.
Her eyes closed and the accusing scream was silenced.
"Snap out of it, Riley!"
Graham's voice brings me back to the present. Right. We have to watch this. Watch the glorious finale of the 314 project. Walsh's ticket to immortality, I guess. Maybe they'll name schools after her or something. I watch from the railing as they prepare everything down in the pit.
Buffy is there.
She has not regained consciousness yet and I can't help but be thankful for that. No doubt they pumped her full of drugs to keep her from making trouble. Can't have this girl who protects the innocent from the monsters mess up this important experiment, can we? Bile rises in my throat.
Walsh's love child stands close to where they have strapped Buffy to an operating table. Every time I see it a shiver runs down my spine. It's codenamed Adam One and, if everything goes as Walsh planned it, it will soon turn into the most powerful warrior against the monsters this world has ever seen.
By then the Slayer will be dead, of course. Buffy will be dead.
Adam One. I paid attention at all the briefings they gave us, but of course they told us grunts only the barest details. Adam One. Created from something called Promethian Metal, a fusion of modern metallurgy and ancient magic. Indestructible. No weapon, technological or magical, will be able to harm it. The ultimate soldier.
Maybe I've watched Terminator once too often, but this thing gives me the creeps. Even now, when it's still deactivated.
Seven feet of crimson steel, featureless, the images of the scientists surrounding it playing across its chrome surface. It is shaped like a man, or maybe the parody of a man. No face, no definition. Just two arms, two legs, a smooth head, and a smooth torso.
I'm scared of this thing.
"Guess the big guy's gonna put us out of business, eh?" Forrest says at my side. "Once he gets activated the creepy crawlies better run."
I say nothing, my eyes moving back to Buffy's unconscious form. Some scientists are checking her over once again, the steel contraption they have fastened to her skull. She is the final ingredient. She will make Walsh's super soldier perfect. The supernatural warriror dies, but a more powerful one will take its place. A fair trade, right?
Buffy will be dead.
"Activate the core tap," Walsh orders from where she observes the preparations.
The machines around us start humming as power is pumped into them. A crimson glare fills the laboratory pit and all the hairs on my body stand up, shivers running down my spine. No normal generator could provide the power necessary for something like this. I know where this power comes from and it does not help me sleep at night.
"Power levels optimal," someone tells Walsh.
"Begin phase one!"
Switches are thrown, people move to their positions. A young woman stands directly beside Buffy, cracking her knuckles in preparation. I have been briefed on her as well. A witch. For this we need both science and magic, Walsh said, so the Initiative brought in a witch, government-approved and all.
I hate this.
The witch begins to chant, even as the crimson glow begins to surround Adam One. The lights play across its chrome surface and I have to fight the urge to avert my eyes. I have to watch this. If nothing else, I have to watch this.
A scream pierces the hushed silence of the lab and I see that Buffy has come awake. There is crimson light surrounding her body and she screams. God, why is she screaming like this? They said she wouldn't be in pain. She is supposed to be unconscious through it all. They said it was for the greater good. Why is she in so much pain?
I can't look anymore. I am sorry, Buffy, but I can't look. I turn and walk away, all I can do to keep myself from running. Forrest makes some kind of comment, but I don't hear him above the screaming.
When I'm halfway to the exit the screaming abruptly stops.
"Begin phase two," I hear Walsh's voice.
"I am sorry, Buffy," I whisper under my breath. This had to be done. For the greater good. To make the world a safer place. Or something. Maybe if I tell myself that often enough I can start to believe it.
I'm almost at the elevator, needing to get away from this place, when the ground starts to shake.
"We're having a problem with the core tap," someone yells over the increasing din.
"Stabilize," Walsh screams.
The metal stairway beneath me creaks and sways, it's all I can do to hold on. Cracks appear in the walls and the crimson glare in the laboratory pit intensifies.
"Shut down! Go to emergency shutdown!"
The stairway suddenly breaks away beneath me. Someone is starting to scream in pain, but I can't figure out who. The voice doesn't even sound human.
Something explodes in front of me when I hit the ground and darkness embraces me.
TO BE CONTINUED
#
My head is still spinning with everything I have learned these last two days. On Saturday night I found myself fighting creatures right out of a fairy tale, creatures who had stolen the voices of everyone here in Sunnydale in order to get seven hearts for whatever purpose. I knew a lot of strange things were going on in this deceptively quiet little town, but this ...
Buffy. Buffy Summers. College girl. Beautiful blonde girl, a smile that makes my heart melt. I think I fell for her the moment I first saw her, the sun shining down on her, the rays sparkling in her hair, bringing out the colors in the summer dress she wore. God, she was so beautiful.
All that no longer matters, though. Not after what I learned on Sunday morning. Buffy Summers, this frail little girl, is the Slayer. Slayer, the, as she said. She who hangs out in cemeteries. The chosen one.
The one the Initiative has been looking for ever since we came here.
I remember how Walsh gave us the lowdown. The Slayer. A supernatural warrior, a human imbued with demon strength, all the powers of a Vampire, but without the weaknesses. Fighting to protect humanity from the demons, having done so for centuries.
Walsh wants her. The government wants her. Though the public is not aware of it, the world is filled with creatures science can not explain. Humanity is not the top of the food chain, nowhere close. We rule the world, but only because there are so many of us. We have to keep it that way. Protect the civilians from the things that go bump in the night.
For that we need the Slayer.
It sounded a lot better and convincing when the Slayer was just an abstract. No more real than all the different demon species we read up about. Not a human being, certainly not. A supernatural entity, no more human than a Vampire. Its sole purpose is the protection of us humans, so using it to do just that can't be a bad thing, right?
The Slayer is a girl, though. A beautiful blonde girl with a smile to die for.
I did my duty, though. I reported to Walsh that I found the Slayer. That she had been under our noses all this time, actually. Walsh didn't believe me at first when I told her that one of her students in psych class was the Slayer. I convinced her, though.
Why in hell did I have to convince her?
Walsh wanted the Slayer captured and once again I did my duty. Riley Finn, good little soldier, always doing what he is told. Called her, told her we needed to talk, asked her if she could come over to Lowell House.
We waited for her. Six Initiative soldiers armed with taser guns. She walked in the door, not suspecting a thing. After all her good friend Riley Finn had called her over for a talk. In bright daylight. What possible danger could lurk?
The first taser blast brought her to her knees. The rucksack she used to carry all her student stuff fell from her hands, spilling its contents out on the floor. Her body was shaking from the electric burst, but her eyes never moved. They only looked at me, screaming a silent question at me.
Why? Why did I do this?
She actually got up after that first blast. Got back to her feet, though unsteadily, and tried to fight. It took two more taser blasts to finally bring her down. Her beautiful form slipped to the floor and didn't move anymore.
Her eyes closed and the accusing scream was silenced.
"Snap out of it, Riley!"
Graham's voice brings me back to the present. Right. We have to watch this. Watch the glorious finale of the 314 project. Walsh's ticket to immortality, I guess. Maybe they'll name schools after her or something. I watch from the railing as they prepare everything down in the pit.
Buffy is there.
She has not regained consciousness yet and I can't help but be thankful for that. No doubt they pumped her full of drugs to keep her from making trouble. Can't have this girl who protects the innocent from the monsters mess up this important experiment, can we? Bile rises in my throat.
Walsh's love child stands close to where they have strapped Buffy to an operating table. Every time I see it a shiver runs down my spine. It's codenamed Adam One and, if everything goes as Walsh planned it, it will soon turn into the most powerful warrior against the monsters this world has ever seen.
By then the Slayer will be dead, of course. Buffy will be dead.
Adam One. I paid attention at all the briefings they gave us, but of course they told us grunts only the barest details. Adam One. Created from something called Promethian Metal, a fusion of modern metallurgy and ancient magic. Indestructible. No weapon, technological or magical, will be able to harm it. The ultimate soldier.
Maybe I've watched Terminator once too often, but this thing gives me the creeps. Even now, when it's still deactivated.
Seven feet of crimson steel, featureless, the images of the scientists surrounding it playing across its chrome surface. It is shaped like a man, or maybe the parody of a man. No face, no definition. Just two arms, two legs, a smooth head, and a smooth torso.
I'm scared of this thing.
"Guess the big guy's gonna put us out of business, eh?" Forrest says at my side. "Once he gets activated the creepy crawlies better run."
I say nothing, my eyes moving back to Buffy's unconscious form. Some scientists are checking her over once again, the steel contraption they have fastened to her skull. She is the final ingredient. She will make Walsh's super soldier perfect. The supernatural warriror dies, but a more powerful one will take its place. A fair trade, right?
Buffy will be dead.
"Activate the core tap," Walsh orders from where she observes the preparations.
The machines around us start humming as power is pumped into them. A crimson glare fills the laboratory pit and all the hairs on my body stand up, shivers running down my spine. No normal generator could provide the power necessary for something like this. I know where this power comes from and it does not help me sleep at night.
"Power levels optimal," someone tells Walsh.
"Begin phase one!"
Switches are thrown, people move to their positions. A young woman stands directly beside Buffy, cracking her knuckles in preparation. I have been briefed on her as well. A witch. For this we need both science and magic, Walsh said, so the Initiative brought in a witch, government-approved and all.
I hate this.
The witch begins to chant, even as the crimson glow begins to surround Adam One. The lights play across its chrome surface and I have to fight the urge to avert my eyes. I have to watch this. If nothing else, I have to watch this.
A scream pierces the hushed silence of the lab and I see that Buffy has come awake. There is crimson light surrounding her body and she screams. God, why is she screaming like this? They said she wouldn't be in pain. She is supposed to be unconscious through it all. They said it was for the greater good. Why is she in so much pain?
I can't look anymore. I am sorry, Buffy, but I can't look. I turn and walk away, all I can do to keep myself from running. Forrest makes some kind of comment, but I don't hear him above the screaming.
When I'm halfway to the exit the screaming abruptly stops.
"Begin phase two," I hear Walsh's voice.
"I am sorry, Buffy," I whisper under my breath. This had to be done. For the greater good. To make the world a safer place. Or something. Maybe if I tell myself that often enough I can start to believe it.
I'm almost at the elevator, needing to get away from this place, when the ground starts to shake.
"We're having a problem with the core tap," someone yells over the increasing din.
"Stabilize," Walsh screams.
The metal stairway beneath me creaks and sways, it's all I can do to hold on. Cracks appear in the walls and the crimson glare in the laboratory pit intensifies.
"Shut down! Go to emergency shutdown!"
The stairway suddenly breaks away beneath me. Someone is starting to scream in pain, but I can't figure out who. The voice doesn't even sound human.
Something explodes in front of me when I hit the ground and darkness embraces me.
TO BE CONTINUED