"Fang and talon, devil and daemon
Summoned near by witch's power
Shall meet under full moon's light.
Destiny's accursed children
Fallen Angel, Feline Woman
Hate and distrust shall abound.
Love's unlikely flower will bloom
While in the darkness the green eyed
monster doth loom.
The two shall become as one
And the hate which beget love
will again beget hate.
Be warned! The choosing is at hand.
If choice be wrong
Light's hope grows dim
Pain and suffering shall reign again.
The chosen two will be wrent asunder
and darkness shall devour the light.
Wrong must be made right.
Hope doth rest in angel's tear
and the lost shall rise as the phoenix
True love will chain the beasts within
And the cursed shall become the gifted."
Prologue
Night to Dream
Darkness surrounded him. Even with his eyes wide open, he couldn't see. Yet he knew he wasn't alone...he was never alone. Always his demon was there, watching him, taunting him, torturing him. If he wasn't being tortured physically, he was being tormented emotionally as images of all his atrocities played themselves out in his mind like a grisly horror movie. He barely had time to recover from one onslaught before the whole cycle began anew.
Angel struggled at his bonds as the demon chuckled behind him, trailing an icy claw down his back. He stiffened involuntarily in an attempt to brace himself against what he knew was coming. It never helped.
He stared into the nothingness of his own personal hell as individual faces swam before his eyes; images of the people who he had killed over his many years as Angelus. Tears fell down his raw face, bloody tears of pain and guilt as he watched each and every death perpetrated by his own hands. The pain grew in intensity as the faces became more recent, more familiar, and more achingly beloved to him.
He broke down, as he always did, as he watched himself harass the Scoobies, tormenting Buffy and threatening to kill Willow. As always, he lost his last shreds of control when he saw Buffy standing in front of him, tears in her eyes as she desolately told him to close his eyes. He screamed as he felt the sword go through his stomach...
* * * * * * * * * *
Whimpering in her sleep, Willow tossed and turned, trying to escape the nightmares that plagued her. They were always the same; images of Angel, trapped in hell and tortured by his demon. She watched, helplessly, as Angel's demon stripped the flesh off his back, forcing Angel to scream in agony. She cried bitter tears of frustration as she watched Angel struggle to tear himself away from the images the demon showed him; images of the people Angelus had tortured and killed. She knew that Angel himself wasn't at fault, that the demon itself was really responsible. She knew as well that Angel would never see it that way, and that he blamed himself for all those deaths.
The images of Angel would fade away, and new ones would take its place. The images were less clear, more confusing as they assaulted her senses. She saw Angel, or at least she thought it was Angel, battling some creature in the cemetery. His eyes flashed yellow, while the other creatures glowed as red as blood. Both attacked with an intense fierceness, neither one showing signs of stopping. Blood...there was blood everywhere, but neither one wanted to stop. They just kept fighting, kept ripping each other to pieces.
Willow saw them break apart suddenly, each watching the other warily as they fought for breath. As the two enemies circled, the moonlight fell upon Angel's opponent, and Willow got a glimpse of its features. It was a young woman, about her age...no...now it was a large black cat, a panther that snarled and prepared to launch itself at Angel.
A nearby bush moved, and Willow saw the creature turn away from Angel to face this newest threat. Her eyes widened as she saw Buffy, a crossbow in hand, take cold and deadly aim at the creature. The creature leaped...the crossbow twanged...the creature was falling...falling...turning back into the young woman Willow had first seen. It was then that Willow screamed.
"NOOOOOOO..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"...NOOOOOOO!!!" A young woman screamed, jolting herself out of her nightmares and bolting upright in her bed. Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she gasped for breath, shaking from the violent images that swam in her mind. Shivering, she fought to regain control of herself, grasping the bed sheet tightly against her nude body. It was several moments before she was able to take a deep breath, before she was able to open her eyes and peer at her surroundings.
It was dark in the room, but the soft glow of the waxing moon outside cast enough illumination for her to see how empty the motel room was. The only pieces of furniture in the room were an old armchair, a serviceable dresser, and a rather lumpy bed. Her large, overstuffed duffel bag lay in a corner of the room, left packed because she wasn't staying at the motel long enough for it to matter. This was only a place to sleep for the night...she had planned to move on in the morning.
Feeling a little more in control, she forced herself to move, standing up on shaky legs and stepping away from the bed. Leaning against the wall for support, she made her way to the bathroom. The overhead light burned her eyes for a moment and she stopped, blinking rapidly before continuing on her way to the bathroom counter. After splashing water on her face, she leaned against the counter, staring grimly at her own reflection.
Deep brown hair hung down her shoulders in waves, damp from sweat and sticking to her body. Her skin was pale, no doubt from the nightmare she just awoken from, and it stretched tautly across her ribs due to her lack of anything substantial for food in the past week or so. Her intense hazel eyes were a little bloodshot as she took in the damage to herself from yet another night of intense dreaming.
Slightly pouty lips curled in disgust and she snarled softly to herself, cursing inwardly at her weakness. She'd lived with nightmares for little over four years now, and she had been able to keep her sanity thus far. Never mind that lately those dreams were not memories, but rather they seemed to be things that had not yet happened...
Abruptly she turned away from the mirror, striding out of the bathroom as if to escape the hold her dreams had on her. 'I will not let them get to me', she thought bitterly to herself as she came to stand in front of the window. 'I will not let them destroy my last shred of sanity'. Not caring if someone happened to walk by her room and see that she was naked, she pressed her forehead to the cool surface of the glass and closed her eyes, willing her emotions under control.
"Get it together Kat," she whispered. "They're only dreams." She knew she was lying to herself though; these weren't simply dreams. Something was stirring, something was calling out to her, warning her. If only she knew why...opening her eyes, she flicked a glance to the map that lay on top of her duffel bag. To the area she had circled it with a red pen. To the name of a town...her destination.
Sunnydale.
Summoned near by witch's power
Shall meet under full moon's light.
Destiny's accursed children
Fallen Angel, Feline Woman
Hate and distrust shall abound.
Love's unlikely flower will bloom
While in the darkness the green eyed
monster doth loom.
The two shall become as one
And the hate which beget love
will again beget hate.
Be warned! The choosing is at hand.
If choice be wrong
Light's hope grows dim
Pain and suffering shall reign again.
The chosen two will be wrent asunder
and darkness shall devour the light.
Wrong must be made right.
Hope doth rest in angel's tear
and the lost shall rise as the phoenix
True love will chain the beasts within
And the cursed shall become the gifted."
Prologue
Night to Dream
Darkness surrounded him. Even with his eyes wide open, he couldn't see. Yet he knew he wasn't alone...he was never alone. Always his demon was there, watching him, taunting him, torturing him. If he wasn't being tortured physically, he was being tormented emotionally as images of all his atrocities played themselves out in his mind like a grisly horror movie. He barely had time to recover from one onslaught before the whole cycle began anew.
Angel struggled at his bonds as the demon chuckled behind him, trailing an icy claw down his back. He stiffened involuntarily in an attempt to brace himself against what he knew was coming. It never helped.
He stared into the nothingness of his own personal hell as individual faces swam before his eyes; images of the people who he had killed over his many years as Angelus. Tears fell down his raw face, bloody tears of pain and guilt as he watched each and every death perpetrated by his own hands. The pain grew in intensity as the faces became more recent, more familiar, and more achingly beloved to him.
He broke down, as he always did, as he watched himself harass the Scoobies, tormenting Buffy and threatening to kill Willow. As always, he lost his last shreds of control when he saw Buffy standing in front of him, tears in her eyes as she desolately told him to close his eyes. He screamed as he felt the sword go through his stomach...
* * * * * * * * * *
Whimpering in her sleep, Willow tossed and turned, trying to escape the nightmares that plagued her. They were always the same; images of Angel, trapped in hell and tortured by his demon. She watched, helplessly, as Angel's demon stripped the flesh off his back, forcing Angel to scream in agony. She cried bitter tears of frustration as she watched Angel struggle to tear himself away from the images the demon showed him; images of the people Angelus had tortured and killed. She knew that Angel himself wasn't at fault, that the demon itself was really responsible. She knew as well that Angel would never see it that way, and that he blamed himself for all those deaths.
The images of Angel would fade away, and new ones would take its place. The images were less clear, more confusing as they assaulted her senses. She saw Angel, or at least she thought it was Angel, battling some creature in the cemetery. His eyes flashed yellow, while the other creatures glowed as red as blood. Both attacked with an intense fierceness, neither one showing signs of stopping. Blood...there was blood everywhere, but neither one wanted to stop. They just kept fighting, kept ripping each other to pieces.
Willow saw them break apart suddenly, each watching the other warily as they fought for breath. As the two enemies circled, the moonlight fell upon Angel's opponent, and Willow got a glimpse of its features. It was a young woman, about her age...no...now it was a large black cat, a panther that snarled and prepared to launch itself at Angel.
A nearby bush moved, and Willow saw the creature turn away from Angel to face this newest threat. Her eyes widened as she saw Buffy, a crossbow in hand, take cold and deadly aim at the creature. The creature leaped...the crossbow twanged...the creature was falling...falling...turning back into the young woman Willow had first seen. It was then that Willow screamed.
"NOOOOOOO..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"...NOOOOOOO!!!" A young woman screamed, jolting herself out of her nightmares and bolting upright in her bed. Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she gasped for breath, shaking from the violent images that swam in her mind. Shivering, she fought to regain control of herself, grasping the bed sheet tightly against her nude body. It was several moments before she was able to take a deep breath, before she was able to open her eyes and peer at her surroundings.
It was dark in the room, but the soft glow of the waxing moon outside cast enough illumination for her to see how empty the motel room was. The only pieces of furniture in the room were an old armchair, a serviceable dresser, and a rather lumpy bed. Her large, overstuffed duffel bag lay in a corner of the room, left packed because she wasn't staying at the motel long enough for it to matter. This was only a place to sleep for the night...she had planned to move on in the morning.
Feeling a little more in control, she forced herself to move, standing up on shaky legs and stepping away from the bed. Leaning against the wall for support, she made her way to the bathroom. The overhead light burned her eyes for a moment and she stopped, blinking rapidly before continuing on her way to the bathroom counter. After splashing water on her face, she leaned against the counter, staring grimly at her own reflection.
Deep brown hair hung down her shoulders in waves, damp from sweat and sticking to her body. Her skin was pale, no doubt from the nightmare she just awoken from, and it stretched tautly across her ribs due to her lack of anything substantial for food in the past week or so. Her intense hazel eyes were a little bloodshot as she took in the damage to herself from yet another night of intense dreaming.
Slightly pouty lips curled in disgust and she snarled softly to herself, cursing inwardly at her weakness. She'd lived with nightmares for little over four years now, and she had been able to keep her sanity thus far. Never mind that lately those dreams were not memories, but rather they seemed to be things that had not yet happened...
Abruptly she turned away from the mirror, striding out of the bathroom as if to escape the hold her dreams had on her. 'I will not let them get to me', she thought bitterly to herself as she came to stand in front of the window. 'I will not let them destroy my last shred of sanity'. Not caring if someone happened to walk by her room and see that she was naked, she pressed her forehead to the cool surface of the glass and closed her eyes, willing her emotions under control.
"Get it together Kat," she whispered. "They're only dreams." She knew she was lying to herself though; these weren't simply dreams. Something was stirring, something was calling out to her, warning her. If only she knew why...opening her eyes, she flicked a glance to the map that lay on top of her duffel bag. To the area she had circled it with a red pen. To the name of a town...her destination.
Sunnydale.