Authors note: New fic as you can see. Not too sure where it is going so I
might take longer to update! Thanks Tariq for the ideas etc etc.
Here goes.
Chap 1
It's very dark. Now when I say dark I mean can't see your hand in front of your face dark. I walk forwards, trying to imagine what is likely to be lurking nearby.
"Hello?" I call out to the darkness that just seems to suck up my words and swallow them whole, never to be heard again.
I turn left and I can see a faint glimmer of light. Very faint glimmer of light. So naturally, I start walking towards it. As it grows larger, I notice that I am now stood in a corridor, the type of corridor that you would see in a hotel. The décor reminds me of an old 1950's flick that is always on television around Christmas when everybody is tired and full of turkey.
The walls are covered in a dark, red/burgundy paper with swirls of a paler cream pattern over the top of it. I look down and notice that I'm walking on dark carpet patterned with cream coloured diamonds to match the patterned walls.
210. 209. 208. 207. 206.
Now I'm passing solid oak doors with shiny gold numbers on the front. This is defiantly a hotel.
There's a lift at the end of the corridor. Instinctively I step inside and press "Ground Floor." And the doors shut. There's a whir of noise and slowly the lift starts to descend with an ominous clunking sound. Finally there's a PING and the doors open, revealing the ground floor lobby.
Directly opposite is a curved desk that starts half way across the room and curves around to the other side. In the centre there's a seating area, with the odd potted plant here and there. The entrance is made of large oaken doors that hold exquisite designs that seem to be carved by hand.
I approach the desk cautiously and peer over the edge to the desk behind. A man is seated there, he is dressed for modern times, and his thick black hair is spiked up in a manner of its own. He is reading a book, the title of which I can't see but on the page there's an obvious design of a demon, it's head reared back in a terrible howl.
"Hello?" I try once more.
He does not answer me but looks up, his own blue gaze piecing into my hazel eyes.
"Wesley?" I instantly recognise the man, but yet he is very different from when I last saw him. Instead of the stuffy watcher exterior, he now looks rugged and grim and somewhat defiantly less watcher-ish.
Finally I give in trying to get a response from Wesley and walk around the desk to look at the many files that are spread across the desks. Picking up one I notice that it holds the name of the hotel.
"The Hyperion."
A hand reaches out and grabs my wrist tightly, his grip is fierce. I look up and see Wesley stood before me. I frown at this sudden movement when he starts to speak:
"He needs help."
What?
I see a small room situated just beyond one of the desks. I step towards it and look inside to see a more office type room, with a large leather seat and another desk covered in files.
A man is sat at this desk, but I do not have to look at him twice to know who he is.
It's Angel.
He looks up at me and I take a step back, catching hold of the doorframe as I do so. His face looks rotten, his skin peeling from his bones and a twisted look of fear creeps across his face.
"Buffy." He almost pleads, lifting his hand out to me.
I lean forward to take it although I do so in fear of what might happen. Instant ice runs up my arm and the next thing I know I am thrown into water, ice-cold water.
I look above me and see the surface so far away and know I cannot reach it. My lungs would not last that long.
I turn right and a steel box rises beside me from the depths of the ocean. I swim towards it and look inside the interior through the glass panel on the front. I gasp at what's inside.
I sit bolt up right in my bed and gasp for air as panic slowly starts to fade as I realise where I am, that I am safe. I look around and catch the eye of Mr Gordo and some how relief sweeps across my skin.
Then I think back to the dream I just had. What was in that box? That was the third time this week I have dreamt the same dream always ending the same way. Just a steel box at the bottom of the Ocean, it's contents never quite revealed to me yet I know it is bad.
And why is Angel involved? More to the point, why is Wesley involved? It's been a long time since I've dreamt of Angel but still it isn't new to me that I am dreaming about him. As for Wes, there's no explanation for why I would dream of the old watcher.
So I lie back in my bed and contemplate sleep once more. Problem with sleep is once you've had a dream like I have just had, it is unlikely that you will get back to sleep, due to the worry of falling back into that dream.
That is what I worry about now. If I sleep I will see his face again, that perfect angelic face that has greeted me so many times will turn into a rotten mess of decomposed flesh and the acrid smell of death will linger in my nostrils.
I roll to the side and turn to look out the window; the stars still shine in the sky although in the distance, I can see the sun's glow starting to slowly peek over the horizon. I smile as I think of Angel. What is he doing now? No doubt returning from yet another solved case to fall into a gentle sleep as the sun rises.
****** Ocean near LA
"Buffy." I can see her face before me, her beautiful face smiling at me as I lean in to take her hand.
My hand hits solid glass.
My eyes start to focus on the glass and I watch as a small fish darts in front of the glass. Since when do fish swim in air?
Wait, no. I'm still in the ocean aren't I?
With a groan I let my head fall back against the steel box that I am lain in with a clunk. For days I had been imagining her, walking into my office and taking my hand. For days I have seen her, swim passed my cold prison and see me, see my skinny form as I rot away inside this steel box.
If only my dreams were true, if only someone knew I was stuck down here with no one to help me and no way of escaping.
*~* Please read and review!!!! *~*
Here goes.
Chap 1
It's very dark. Now when I say dark I mean can't see your hand in front of your face dark. I walk forwards, trying to imagine what is likely to be lurking nearby.
"Hello?" I call out to the darkness that just seems to suck up my words and swallow them whole, never to be heard again.
I turn left and I can see a faint glimmer of light. Very faint glimmer of light. So naturally, I start walking towards it. As it grows larger, I notice that I am now stood in a corridor, the type of corridor that you would see in a hotel. The décor reminds me of an old 1950's flick that is always on television around Christmas when everybody is tired and full of turkey.
The walls are covered in a dark, red/burgundy paper with swirls of a paler cream pattern over the top of it. I look down and notice that I'm walking on dark carpet patterned with cream coloured diamonds to match the patterned walls.
210. 209. 208. 207. 206.
Now I'm passing solid oak doors with shiny gold numbers on the front. This is defiantly a hotel.
There's a lift at the end of the corridor. Instinctively I step inside and press "Ground Floor." And the doors shut. There's a whir of noise and slowly the lift starts to descend with an ominous clunking sound. Finally there's a PING and the doors open, revealing the ground floor lobby.
Directly opposite is a curved desk that starts half way across the room and curves around to the other side. In the centre there's a seating area, with the odd potted plant here and there. The entrance is made of large oaken doors that hold exquisite designs that seem to be carved by hand.
I approach the desk cautiously and peer over the edge to the desk behind. A man is seated there, he is dressed for modern times, and his thick black hair is spiked up in a manner of its own. He is reading a book, the title of which I can't see but on the page there's an obvious design of a demon, it's head reared back in a terrible howl.
"Hello?" I try once more.
He does not answer me but looks up, his own blue gaze piecing into my hazel eyes.
"Wesley?" I instantly recognise the man, but yet he is very different from when I last saw him. Instead of the stuffy watcher exterior, he now looks rugged and grim and somewhat defiantly less watcher-ish.
Finally I give in trying to get a response from Wesley and walk around the desk to look at the many files that are spread across the desks. Picking up one I notice that it holds the name of the hotel.
"The Hyperion."
A hand reaches out and grabs my wrist tightly, his grip is fierce. I look up and see Wesley stood before me. I frown at this sudden movement when he starts to speak:
"He needs help."
What?
I see a small room situated just beyond one of the desks. I step towards it and look inside to see a more office type room, with a large leather seat and another desk covered in files.
A man is sat at this desk, but I do not have to look at him twice to know who he is.
It's Angel.
He looks up at me and I take a step back, catching hold of the doorframe as I do so. His face looks rotten, his skin peeling from his bones and a twisted look of fear creeps across his face.
"Buffy." He almost pleads, lifting his hand out to me.
I lean forward to take it although I do so in fear of what might happen. Instant ice runs up my arm and the next thing I know I am thrown into water, ice-cold water.
I look above me and see the surface so far away and know I cannot reach it. My lungs would not last that long.
I turn right and a steel box rises beside me from the depths of the ocean. I swim towards it and look inside the interior through the glass panel on the front. I gasp at what's inside.
I sit bolt up right in my bed and gasp for air as panic slowly starts to fade as I realise where I am, that I am safe. I look around and catch the eye of Mr Gordo and some how relief sweeps across my skin.
Then I think back to the dream I just had. What was in that box? That was the third time this week I have dreamt the same dream always ending the same way. Just a steel box at the bottom of the Ocean, it's contents never quite revealed to me yet I know it is bad.
And why is Angel involved? More to the point, why is Wesley involved? It's been a long time since I've dreamt of Angel but still it isn't new to me that I am dreaming about him. As for Wes, there's no explanation for why I would dream of the old watcher.
So I lie back in my bed and contemplate sleep once more. Problem with sleep is once you've had a dream like I have just had, it is unlikely that you will get back to sleep, due to the worry of falling back into that dream.
That is what I worry about now. If I sleep I will see his face again, that perfect angelic face that has greeted me so many times will turn into a rotten mess of decomposed flesh and the acrid smell of death will linger in my nostrils.
I roll to the side and turn to look out the window; the stars still shine in the sky although in the distance, I can see the sun's glow starting to slowly peek over the horizon. I smile as I think of Angel. What is he doing now? No doubt returning from yet another solved case to fall into a gentle sleep as the sun rises.
****** Ocean near LA
"Buffy." I can see her face before me, her beautiful face smiling at me as I lean in to take her hand.
My hand hits solid glass.
My eyes start to focus on the glass and I watch as a small fish darts in front of the glass. Since when do fish swim in air?
Wait, no. I'm still in the ocean aren't I?
With a groan I let my head fall back against the steel box that I am lain in with a clunk. For days I had been imagining her, walking into my office and taking my hand. For days I have seen her, swim passed my cold prison and see me, see my skinny form as I rot away inside this steel box.
If only my dreams were true, if only someone knew I was stuck down here with no one to help me and no way of escaping.
*~* Please read and review!!!! *~*
