Chapter Three: So Many Keys, So Many Doors_______________________________
Buffy stood in the kitchen, taking a break from the research she, Giles, and Willow, had been doing all day. She opened the fridge and saw the last of the milk sitting peacefully at the bottom of the plastic gallon. She eyed it, and then looked around for anyone who would use this lack of etiquette against her. She took up the gallon, separated it from the red cap, and drank.
"Ah." Giles interjected. Buffy immediately turned her eyes towards the Brit as she chugged down the last drop.
"Well, I suppose 'Got Milk' is a moot question now."
Buffy wiped her mouth, crushing the plastic container with one hand. She looked at her former mentor with remorseful, almost exaggerated puppy dog eyes.
"Willow says that she may've found something." "Good!" "Oh and um." "Um?" "You have a little something on your lip."
Buffy awkwardly cocked a half-smile as she wiped away the milk with the back of hand. Giles let out a slight sigh and the pair returned to the dining room. Willow sat there, clicking on the pad of the laptop, staring into an endless abyss of knowledge, much of it not as useful as she'd like it to be. As she searched, it seemed like an eternity, especially with her magickal rehab still in effect. It had been a while, and all she could find were myths on the enigmatic Cenobites. She was so tempted to just let loose with a minimal locator spell, but she knew better, especially since Giles and Buffy were now entering the dining room.
"So" Buffy began. "Whatcha got there, Will?" "Oh, um, it's something about those Cenobites we've been searching for. I.I think I may've found something." "Do tell" Buffy inquired.
Giles adjusted his glasses and bent over Willow's shoulder, staring at the screen. His eyes began to squint.
Buffy spoke up. "Hey, Giles, you wanna try doing your old routine with the dusty books and stuff?" "That actually sounds like a rousing good time compared to this.thing."
Giles lifted up his specs, rubbing his eyes, and headed into the living room to find his jacket. A trip to the Magic Box would do him some good. The glare of the screen was one that his eyes could not quite constitute.
"So, what do we have?"
Willow scrolled down and there was an old parchment with French text scribbled all over it. There was also a diagram. Below the pic, a caption read: 'The Anatomy of Hell'. The sketch was of the box, but it had been dissected, split apart with intricate designs and symbols within. Various Latin incantations were inscribed with in the sketch.
"Ok, so what are we looking at?" "Well, some of the inscriptions within the drawing, they're.they're incantations. From really old, really dark rituals." "So, we know he was into some really dark stuff. What else?" "Buffy, you don't understand. When.when I went all.veiny, I became one with some of the most primal magicks ever! But, this stuff, not even my own body could handle it. It rejected it." "So, whoever used these magicks." "Was powerful enough to manipulate the powers of Hell. Buffy, I could only use pieces of it, but this LeMarchand guy."
Buffy stood there, the reflection of the screen's radiance in her eyes. Willow began to move the screen down some more, past text hat they had read, interpreted many times today. But, there was something new. It was another picture. This time, it was a sketch of a man. It was a crude drawing, its caption reading: 'Xipe Totec: The Dark Pontiff of Hell'. The man seemed to be bound in buckles and straps, with what appeared to be large, pointed objects protruding from his face. In his hand were blades, and chains dangled from his gown. Numerous Latin inscriptions, similar to that found in the Lament Configuration diagram, also graced this pic.
"I'm off!" proclaimed Giles as he opened for the door. "Alright. We may be by later." Buffy replied. "Very well. Good luck, Willow, Buffy."
Giles waved goodbye and shut the door behind him.
As the girls stared into the pic, something came over Willow, only for a moment. It was a flash of memory, or rather, someone else's memory. Visions of a dark realm, filled with boundless pain, suffering, elation, and slavery. Although the vision was just a flash, the sound of razors against virgin flesh and the pitch of eloquent agony were as vivid and piercing as any thing she had ever felt.
"You alright, Will?" "Yeah, I'm.just, a thing, you know?"
Before Buffy could respond, the door opened.
"Buffy, we're home!" Xander shouted, with Dawn rushing towards the steps leading up to her room. Buffy left her post at the laptop and headed into the living room to greet her friend and sister. Dawn did not speak to anyone; she escaped up to her room, clutching tight to her back pack.
"What's the matter with her?" Buffy asked. "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the Dawnster smells like a cemetery?" "Dawnster?" "Yeah, she told me it sucked too."
Buffy and Xander walked towards Willow, who was still at the computer, scanning the screen with her eyes for anything useful.
"So, what are you ladies looking at, aside from a computer screen?" Willow responded. "Well, we were looking at this thing about the Lament Configuration." "The Cement Whatchamacallit?" "I dunno. It's some puzzle box that was stolen about a week ago. Willow claims that it may have some really evil magickal forces connected to it." "Ah, the usual."
"Pretty much." Buffy said. "Yep." Willow followed. "So", Buffy began to inquire, "What's wrong with Dawn?"
Upstairs, Dawn lay on her belly face down in an Anatomy and Physiology text book. Her back pack was open and the box waited inside, still.
"Short is the Pain, Long is the Ornament"
Dawn looked down at her notebook and noticed this phrase had replaced everything she had thought she had been writing. She didn't even notice her error. She looked at the phrase, trying hard to decipher it. She then looked to her bag, putting the pencil down between the crevice of the text book. Dawn slowly moved up from the book, sitting on her bed, holding her knees together. She looked into the abyss that was her back pack as the phrase rang through her head, like a dark whisper in a subtle wind. The Box was growing impatient with Dawn. The energy that beckoned Dawn began to grow, the temptation thickening. And Dawn was not one to resist temptation.
As Dawn began to try and figure out the secrets of the Box, she began to caress a circle on one of its side, going around and around. Suddenly, there was a shock and the Box fell to the ground. A piece of the puzzle moved up and moved back and forth and went back
into the Box. Then, it turned over and a cylindrical piece moved up. As it did so, the room began to shake and rumble with energies. It went back inside and turned onto another side. A square decoration opened into four pieces and music could be faintly heard. Dawn crawled over and looked into the tiny abyss. Suddenly, strange and mystical gusts of wind came over her room, blowing around papers, slamming her door shut, smashing her windows and shaking her bed violently. He room went pitch black and the sound of dangling chains, infant agony, chattering teeth, and moving mechanics could be heard, as the cracks in her floor began to glow. Suddenly, the lights came up again, only they burned a bright, whitish hue. The wind continued as the two walls on both sides of her door began to open, releasing mists and sounds. The hallways looked endless. Dawn just sat there as figures from the light began to approach. The first was The Butterball, a fat bald man who's ears had been cut off, eyes sewn shut, and his exposed gut had been torn out and stitched together again arrived first, out of the left. Out of the right, chattering teeth could be heard from a distance. It was The Chatterer, whose entire head was mutilated. Six steel wires pried his mouth open to reveal a horrid grimace as the wires squeezed the rest of his skin. A few seconds later, the goddess of pain and sensation, The Female, arrived following Butterball; pale, bald, her throat severed open, her trachea exposed as she brandished and sharpened her wicked blades. Finally, their commander arrived after Chatterer. His head had been carved into a grid and large pins
had been put on his pale hairless head, like a crown of eternal visceral hierarchy. His gown dusted the floor as his chest wounds glistened. The Chatterer picked up Dawn by the hair and placed his blood stained fingers inside her mouth, pinning her against the wall while the others watched. They were the Order of The Gash, explorers in every region of pain and pleasure, masters of the black secrets and dark desires. They were the Cenobites.
Dawn began to choke on the Chatterer's fingers, tears streamed from the child's innocent cheeks. Their leader stepped forward, wind scattering the pieces of paper around the demolished bedroom. It was him, Xope Totec, Kommander of the Order of the Gash, High Priest of the Dark Diamond. It was he who was known as Pinhead. Dawn's eyes widened with terror, becoming dark pools of nubile fear.
"Oh, child, do not waste your tears. There is more than enough suffering in store." Dawn screamed as loud as was granted with the Cenobite's fingers inside her mouth, clamping her jaw. Her cries carried downstairs. Hearing Dawn's scream, Buffy perked up, "Whoa, did you guys hear that?" She asked turning to others, "It sounded like Dawn." Turning to Willow with a look in her eyes, Buffy said, "Do.do you guys feel that?" Willow looked up at Buffy, their mutual fear meeting eye to eye. "I feel it too!" Xander exclaimed. Willow could feel the dark energies congregating above her. It felt so tempting, so lovely. Like sweet, dark chocolate. Oh, these sensations excited her. Willow's lids began to flutter as her fingers began to tremble. "Will!" Xander shouted. Xander knelt down and began to hold her hand, lightly tapping her cheek to snap her out of it. "I'm going up there!" Buffy proclaimed. Wasting no time, she rushed in towards the staircase. As soon as her hand touched the wooden hand rail, her body felt frozen, as if stuck in a blizzard. As she exhaled, she could see her breath appear before her. This was not a deterrent, however, as the Slayer continued up the steps. "Uhhh." Willow groaned. "Where.where is.DAWN!" Willow then shot up, leaving behind Xander and the laptop, and headed upstairs for Buffy. Xander followed suit after his Wiccan companion. At the top of the staircase, Buffy could feel immediately that something was terribly wrong. She could sense an unnatural evil, unusually close by. "Dawn? Dawn, you okay?" called Buffy down the hall. There was no answer, so Buffy beckoned to the others and went for Dawn's room. Taking a deep breathe, Buffy attempted to kick the door in. "Dawn!" she cried, repeatedly kicking the door. Outside, the Cenobites could hear the Slayer's calls and cries to her sister. Pinhead turned to the door as The Female approached Dawn, her blades ready to cut through such sweet, tender skin. "Dawn! Dawn, hold on, I'm coming!" The Chatterer let his fingers loose from her mouth and Dawn pleaded to the legion. "P.Please, let.let me go. I.I don't." The Female spoke first, as Pinhead continued with his eyes on the door. "You opened the Box, did you not? You asked, we answered. It is the way things are. They have been this way since time was time." Outside, Buffy could feel the wood of the door weakening. Finally, she cracked through the surface. Pinhead snapped his fingers and a fury of black, razor sharp hooked chains swarmed the door, preventing anyone from entering. "Oh, stop crying. You wanted to play this game" spoke the Female. "You wouldn't be teasing us...would you?" The Female caressed Dawn's supple cheek with her razors as Pinhead snapped his head back around toward the young girl. "Who are you guys?!" Dawn screamed. "We are explorers in this, the boundless arena of absolute desire and destiny. We are angels to some, demons to others." The Chatterer's teeth clashed together in Dawn's ear as he pulled back her hair and tightened his grip around her throat. Pinhead spoke, looking into Dawn' s soul with his deep, empty black eyes... "You asked, you came."
"But."
"No more questions, child!" Pinhead turned around and headed back into the corridors of the abyss, Butterball and Female following behind. The Chatterer kept hold of Dawn as he followed his comrades into the bright lights of nothing. The walls of her room closed behind them as the Box was left upon Dawn's bedroom floor. The room returned to a relative normal and the chains retreated back into the shadows. The door opened for the others to see. There was nothing but the Box. Buffy stepped in first, the air still rank with evil. Willow and Xander stayed outside for a moment, taking in the entropy. "Oh my, Hecate!" whispered Willow. In the center of the floor, surrounded by pieces of shredded paper, resting atop a scratch-marked floor, the Lament Configuration was there, glistening, the music fading out.
Buffy stood in the kitchen, taking a break from the research she, Giles, and Willow, had been doing all day. She opened the fridge and saw the last of the milk sitting peacefully at the bottom of the plastic gallon. She eyed it, and then looked around for anyone who would use this lack of etiquette against her. She took up the gallon, separated it from the red cap, and drank.
"Ah." Giles interjected. Buffy immediately turned her eyes towards the Brit as she chugged down the last drop.
"Well, I suppose 'Got Milk' is a moot question now."
Buffy wiped her mouth, crushing the plastic container with one hand. She looked at her former mentor with remorseful, almost exaggerated puppy dog eyes.
"Willow says that she may've found something." "Good!" "Oh and um." "Um?" "You have a little something on your lip."
Buffy awkwardly cocked a half-smile as she wiped away the milk with the back of hand. Giles let out a slight sigh and the pair returned to the dining room. Willow sat there, clicking on the pad of the laptop, staring into an endless abyss of knowledge, much of it not as useful as she'd like it to be. As she searched, it seemed like an eternity, especially with her magickal rehab still in effect. It had been a while, and all she could find were myths on the enigmatic Cenobites. She was so tempted to just let loose with a minimal locator spell, but she knew better, especially since Giles and Buffy were now entering the dining room.
"So" Buffy began. "Whatcha got there, Will?" "Oh, um, it's something about those Cenobites we've been searching for. I.I think I may've found something." "Do tell" Buffy inquired.
Giles adjusted his glasses and bent over Willow's shoulder, staring at the screen. His eyes began to squint.
Buffy spoke up. "Hey, Giles, you wanna try doing your old routine with the dusty books and stuff?" "That actually sounds like a rousing good time compared to this.thing."
Giles lifted up his specs, rubbing his eyes, and headed into the living room to find his jacket. A trip to the Magic Box would do him some good. The glare of the screen was one that his eyes could not quite constitute.
"So, what do we have?"
Willow scrolled down and there was an old parchment with French text scribbled all over it. There was also a diagram. Below the pic, a caption read: 'The Anatomy of Hell'. The sketch was of the box, but it had been dissected, split apart with intricate designs and symbols within. Various Latin incantations were inscribed with in the sketch.
"Ok, so what are we looking at?" "Well, some of the inscriptions within the drawing, they're.they're incantations. From really old, really dark rituals." "So, we know he was into some really dark stuff. What else?" "Buffy, you don't understand. When.when I went all.veiny, I became one with some of the most primal magicks ever! But, this stuff, not even my own body could handle it. It rejected it." "So, whoever used these magicks." "Was powerful enough to manipulate the powers of Hell. Buffy, I could only use pieces of it, but this LeMarchand guy."
Buffy stood there, the reflection of the screen's radiance in her eyes. Willow began to move the screen down some more, past text hat they had read, interpreted many times today. But, there was something new. It was another picture. This time, it was a sketch of a man. It was a crude drawing, its caption reading: 'Xipe Totec: The Dark Pontiff of Hell'. The man seemed to be bound in buckles and straps, with what appeared to be large, pointed objects protruding from his face. In his hand were blades, and chains dangled from his gown. Numerous Latin inscriptions, similar to that found in the Lament Configuration diagram, also graced this pic.
"I'm off!" proclaimed Giles as he opened for the door. "Alright. We may be by later." Buffy replied. "Very well. Good luck, Willow, Buffy."
Giles waved goodbye and shut the door behind him.
As the girls stared into the pic, something came over Willow, only for a moment. It was a flash of memory, or rather, someone else's memory. Visions of a dark realm, filled with boundless pain, suffering, elation, and slavery. Although the vision was just a flash, the sound of razors against virgin flesh and the pitch of eloquent agony were as vivid and piercing as any thing she had ever felt.
"You alright, Will?" "Yeah, I'm.just, a thing, you know?"
Before Buffy could respond, the door opened.
"Buffy, we're home!" Xander shouted, with Dawn rushing towards the steps leading up to her room. Buffy left her post at the laptop and headed into the living room to greet her friend and sister. Dawn did not speak to anyone; she escaped up to her room, clutching tight to her back pack.
"What's the matter with her?" Buffy asked. "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the Dawnster smells like a cemetery?" "Dawnster?" "Yeah, she told me it sucked too."
Buffy and Xander walked towards Willow, who was still at the computer, scanning the screen with her eyes for anything useful.
"So, what are you ladies looking at, aside from a computer screen?" Willow responded. "Well, we were looking at this thing about the Lament Configuration." "The Cement Whatchamacallit?" "I dunno. It's some puzzle box that was stolen about a week ago. Willow claims that it may have some really evil magickal forces connected to it." "Ah, the usual."
"Pretty much." Buffy said. "Yep." Willow followed. "So", Buffy began to inquire, "What's wrong with Dawn?"
Upstairs, Dawn lay on her belly face down in an Anatomy and Physiology text book. Her back pack was open and the box waited inside, still.
"Short is the Pain, Long is the Ornament"
Dawn looked down at her notebook and noticed this phrase had replaced everything she had thought she had been writing. She didn't even notice her error. She looked at the phrase, trying hard to decipher it. She then looked to her bag, putting the pencil down between the crevice of the text book. Dawn slowly moved up from the book, sitting on her bed, holding her knees together. She looked into the abyss that was her back pack as the phrase rang through her head, like a dark whisper in a subtle wind. The Box was growing impatient with Dawn. The energy that beckoned Dawn began to grow, the temptation thickening. And Dawn was not one to resist temptation.
As Dawn began to try and figure out the secrets of the Box, she began to caress a circle on one of its side, going around and around. Suddenly, there was a shock and the Box fell to the ground. A piece of the puzzle moved up and moved back and forth and went back
into the Box. Then, it turned over and a cylindrical piece moved up. As it did so, the room began to shake and rumble with energies. It went back inside and turned onto another side. A square decoration opened into four pieces and music could be faintly heard. Dawn crawled over and looked into the tiny abyss. Suddenly, strange and mystical gusts of wind came over her room, blowing around papers, slamming her door shut, smashing her windows and shaking her bed violently. He room went pitch black and the sound of dangling chains, infant agony, chattering teeth, and moving mechanics could be heard, as the cracks in her floor began to glow. Suddenly, the lights came up again, only they burned a bright, whitish hue. The wind continued as the two walls on both sides of her door began to open, releasing mists and sounds. The hallways looked endless. Dawn just sat there as figures from the light began to approach. The first was The Butterball, a fat bald man who's ears had been cut off, eyes sewn shut, and his exposed gut had been torn out and stitched together again arrived first, out of the left. Out of the right, chattering teeth could be heard from a distance. It was The Chatterer, whose entire head was mutilated. Six steel wires pried his mouth open to reveal a horrid grimace as the wires squeezed the rest of his skin. A few seconds later, the goddess of pain and sensation, The Female, arrived following Butterball; pale, bald, her throat severed open, her trachea exposed as she brandished and sharpened her wicked blades. Finally, their commander arrived after Chatterer. His head had been carved into a grid and large pins
had been put on his pale hairless head, like a crown of eternal visceral hierarchy. His gown dusted the floor as his chest wounds glistened. The Chatterer picked up Dawn by the hair and placed his blood stained fingers inside her mouth, pinning her against the wall while the others watched. They were the Order of The Gash, explorers in every region of pain and pleasure, masters of the black secrets and dark desires. They were the Cenobites.
Dawn began to choke on the Chatterer's fingers, tears streamed from the child's innocent cheeks. Their leader stepped forward, wind scattering the pieces of paper around the demolished bedroom. It was him, Xope Totec, Kommander of the Order of the Gash, High Priest of the Dark Diamond. It was he who was known as Pinhead. Dawn's eyes widened with terror, becoming dark pools of nubile fear.
"Oh, child, do not waste your tears. There is more than enough suffering in store." Dawn screamed as loud as was granted with the Cenobite's fingers inside her mouth, clamping her jaw. Her cries carried downstairs. Hearing Dawn's scream, Buffy perked up, "Whoa, did you guys hear that?" She asked turning to others, "It sounded like Dawn." Turning to Willow with a look in her eyes, Buffy said, "Do.do you guys feel that?" Willow looked up at Buffy, their mutual fear meeting eye to eye. "I feel it too!" Xander exclaimed. Willow could feel the dark energies congregating above her. It felt so tempting, so lovely. Like sweet, dark chocolate. Oh, these sensations excited her. Willow's lids began to flutter as her fingers began to tremble. "Will!" Xander shouted. Xander knelt down and began to hold her hand, lightly tapping her cheek to snap her out of it. "I'm going up there!" Buffy proclaimed. Wasting no time, she rushed in towards the staircase. As soon as her hand touched the wooden hand rail, her body felt frozen, as if stuck in a blizzard. As she exhaled, she could see her breath appear before her. This was not a deterrent, however, as the Slayer continued up the steps. "Uhhh." Willow groaned. "Where.where is.DAWN!" Willow then shot up, leaving behind Xander and the laptop, and headed upstairs for Buffy. Xander followed suit after his Wiccan companion. At the top of the staircase, Buffy could feel immediately that something was terribly wrong. She could sense an unnatural evil, unusually close by. "Dawn? Dawn, you okay?" called Buffy down the hall. There was no answer, so Buffy beckoned to the others and went for Dawn's room. Taking a deep breathe, Buffy attempted to kick the door in. "Dawn!" she cried, repeatedly kicking the door. Outside, the Cenobites could hear the Slayer's calls and cries to her sister. Pinhead turned to the door as The Female approached Dawn, her blades ready to cut through such sweet, tender skin. "Dawn! Dawn, hold on, I'm coming!" The Chatterer let his fingers loose from her mouth and Dawn pleaded to the legion. "P.Please, let.let me go. I.I don't." The Female spoke first, as Pinhead continued with his eyes on the door. "You opened the Box, did you not? You asked, we answered. It is the way things are. They have been this way since time was time." Outside, Buffy could feel the wood of the door weakening. Finally, she cracked through the surface. Pinhead snapped his fingers and a fury of black, razor sharp hooked chains swarmed the door, preventing anyone from entering. "Oh, stop crying. You wanted to play this game" spoke the Female. "You wouldn't be teasing us...would you?" The Female caressed Dawn's supple cheek with her razors as Pinhead snapped his head back around toward the young girl. "Who are you guys?!" Dawn screamed. "We are explorers in this, the boundless arena of absolute desire and destiny. We are angels to some, demons to others." The Chatterer's teeth clashed together in Dawn's ear as he pulled back her hair and tightened his grip around her throat. Pinhead spoke, looking into Dawn' s soul with his deep, empty black eyes... "You asked, you came."
"But."
"No more questions, child!" Pinhead turned around and headed back into the corridors of the abyss, Butterball and Female following behind. The Chatterer kept hold of Dawn as he followed his comrades into the bright lights of nothing. The walls of her room closed behind them as the Box was left upon Dawn's bedroom floor. The room returned to a relative normal and the chains retreated back into the shadows. The door opened for the others to see. There was nothing but the Box. Buffy stepped in first, the air still rank with evil. Willow and Xander stayed outside for a moment, taking in the entropy. "Oh my, Hecate!" whispered Willow. In the center of the floor, surrounded by pieces of shredded paper, resting atop a scratch-marked floor, the Lament Configuration was there, glistening, the music fading out.