Addendum to the Author's Note: Thanks so much to all the people who've reviewed. Nothing gets me writing faster than knowing that people are reading. Even if it is just an excuse to explore a bunch of ideas about new slayers, and have fun with local folklore.
Anyone with any ghost stories and folklore they'd like to pass along to me, suggestions of other beasties and things for our heros and their new girls to encounter, please do so! At the moment, I relying mostly on WeirdUS and WeirdNJ for information, as well as the various tales I've been told over the years. I know there's more out there to find, but I don't know where to look yet.
Roads Less Traveled
by Casix Thistlebane
Story 3: Sweet Home Alabama
Part Two
"She was really trained by Giles' grandfather? He's going to have a fit when I tell him." Buffy's voice was cheerful and energetic. Xander smiled into the telephone. "Though it does explain why he's been wandering around the hotel, muttering about how familiar the slayer's name was."
"Yeah, I'm thinking tweed must be genetic. The guy in the picture even looks like he's about to clean his glasses." Xander leaned back on Charlotte's couch in the living room. "She's a sweet heart, Buff. She made us breakfast this morning, more food than even I could eat, and she insisted we eat it all." He heard Buffy laugh.
"Xander, you eat more than anyone else I've ever known, slayers included. And you can't even match our metabolism. It's not wonder you were starting to pack on the weight around your middle."
"Hey, I'll have you know that my protective layer has kept me from freezing in the wintery climates you're sending me to. Dawn says that if we don't manage to get to Florida after this slayer, she's going on strike."
"How's Dawn doing? Wood's been getting her emailed assignments, but she hasn't sent a word to me."
"She's alright, I guess. She's having some trouble adjusting to life on the road, though. I'm sure she'll send you something eventually. But Wood has been keeping her pretty busy." Xander glanced toward the kitchen, where Charlotte was teaching Dawn how to make biscuits. "By the way, she says to tell him that Faulkner was a demon and his books a part of an evil plot to bore young girls to tears and distract them from the real world. She says its an anti-slayer conspiracy."
"I'll tell him. Oh, hold on." There was a pause, then he heard Buffy's and Wood's voices, muffled through what was probably Buffy's hand on the receiver. She came back a moment later. "He says 'congratulations, she's figured it out'. But now she has to write a paper on how the symbolism and the plot work together to create the greatest possible distraction. Can I talk to her?"
"She's talking to Charlotte right now, hold on." Xander stood and walked silently up to Dawn, who stirred the biscuit batter with utmost concentration. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at him, and he winked.
"You're going to put Andrew out of a business."
Dawn shrieked, and flung batter all over the kitchen wall in front of her. Then she spun, and flung it all over Xander. "That's the plan. He thinks he's all special as the official cook of Helsing Institute. Wait till he sees Dawn, the Biscuit Slayer!"
Charlotte smiled. "I think Dawn the Biscuit Slayer still needs some more one on one training with her watcher. You've got too much flour in there."
"Buffy wants to talk to you, Dawn."
The novice chef grimaced. "Damn, I keep forgetting to email her. She's probably pissed, right?"
"Just worried. Think you can take a break from the slaying of baked goods long enough to reassure her?"
"Yeah." Dawn slipped out of her apron. "If I don't, she'll probably ground me. You want to take over?"
"Nah, I don't cook. I'm just a master eater. Unless you need my help, Charlotte?"
"No, dear." Charlotte pulled a couple tupperware containers out of the cabinet above her. "This is going to take some concentration to fix. If you'd like to, though, I've got some old weapons in the attic that could use sharpening. I'd like to take care of at least some of those vampires before I head up north."
"Sure thing." Xander turned to follow Dawn out of the kitchen, then paused. "You're not going to try and take on those things by yourself, are you? Dawn and I are pretty good with the weaponry, but we're no where near the slayer army that it would take to get rid of those suckers."
"You'll find that most vampires aren't nearly as strong away from a hellmouth," Charlotte measured out some butter. "But you're right of course. No, I've got a plan. Vampires are rather cocky, they don't expect to trip over things like booby traps, especially not in the front lawn of an old woman. We'll set them up this afternoon, and see how many we can trip up by this evening. You sharpen up those weapons, I'll finish up here and then get some of my old summoning supplies out. There are a few local spirits we can probably call on for help as well."
"Spirits? Summoning supplies? What was old Giles senior teaching you in those days?"
"Lord Giles was a firm believer that a young slayer not rely on her physical strength alone. He discovered I had some talent towards astral communication, and trained me well in it. Surely your Giles is not a novice in communicating with the beyond himself?"
Xander thought back to the number of times he'd seen Giles recruit otherworldly aid, and smiled. Not to mention his days as Ripper, summoner of demons. "Novice, no. He never let Buffy do any of it though, and it took some convincing before he let Willow in on the act as well."
"That just means he's careful." Charlotte smiled. "I look forward to meeting your friends. And teaching your slayers what I've learned over the years. It's been so long since I've been anywhere near the slayer game. Perhaps I'm a romantic old woman, but I believe it should be fun."
"Barrel of laughs, Charlotte my girl, a barrel of laughs."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dawn stood by the side of the tracks. It was nearing sundown, and Charlotte had loaned her an old trench coat to keep her from getting too cold. It was starting to rain, a spitting drizzle, and she thought of the summer thunderstorms and cooling downpours of California with a nostalgic pang. This rain was cold and bitter, coming at them from every direction. No umbrella in the world would have kept them dry. Charlotte was wrapped in a purple poncho over a fur coat. Her hands were encased in fingerless, wool gloves, and they shook slightly as she lowered a match into a crucible at her feet. They were out to summon a spirit that Charlotte called the Hook Man, who roamed the railroads late at night. Dawn wasn't sure why the ghost of a railroad engineer would be willing to help them fight vampires, or what it could possibly do, but she was willing to try.
Xander was back at the house, setting up trip wires and buckets of holy water in the trees. With his experience as a carpenter and construction worker, he should be done by the time they got back, which was good, as Dawn was still worried that they wouldn't be ready by sun down.
"There," Charlotte murmured, stepping back from the blue-flamed bowl of herbs. Somehow the rain didn't put it out. "The offering is ready. We'll head back to the house now, to set up the spell itself."
The bowl was one of four that she and Charlotte had set out this afternoon, one in the cemetery to call on the ghost of an old general, one by the local church for a priest, and one in the middle of the woods, for an even older, unidentified spirit. The Hook Man was the last spirit they were going to call on. They'd set up the spell in Charlotte's front room, and she would provide the channeling energy while Charlotte provided the focus. Xander was to stand watch, and keep an eye on the proceedings in the lawn. Hopefully by morning, they'd be ready to head down south, and Charlotte would be packing for Cleveland. She smiled. She'd gotten a promise from Buffy earlier that, barring an emergency, she and Xander would get a chance for some time off in Orlando to visit the theme parks. Only a couple of days, mind you, but it was something, anyway.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Dawn lead the woman back to the car. "Four summoning spells in one, it sounds tricky."
"When it comes right down to it, dear," Charlotte patted her arm. "Magic can do anything you ask of it. You just have to know the right way to ask. Between both our energies, we should have no trouble calling up our help. Now, let's go see what Xander's been able to rig for us, shall we?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The rain picked up as soon as the sun finished settling over the mountains, turning dusk into full dark. Xander was standing just inside the front door, peering through the window with his sword at his side. Dawn and Charlotte sat in the front room, a flaming crucible between them. He nodded to them, and Charlotte began to chant.
The vampires arrived within moments of the darkness settling in. They lined the fence before the street, silently gathering. Several started to climb over the fence. Xander counted down silently in his head as one vampire opened the front gate. 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . .
The fishing line on the gate pulled snapped taut, and a line of blades, axes, swords, and sickles, flung themselves into the air at head level, taking out the front wave of vampires. Most were decapitated, some went down with flesh wounds before standing back up. They moved forward again, right into the low lying trip wire. Xander winced as the crossbows hidden in the bushes fired. The aim was off and that trap only managed to take out three of the vampires. The rest yanked the bolts out of arms, legs, and stomachs, and roared. Great, they'd made them angry.
Charlottes chant built in volume and intensity. She was shaking, and as he glanced over, he noticed Dawn begin to glow an unearthly green. Charlotte started to scream out the strange words, the green light flowing along their clasped arms into Charlotte. Her eyes snapped open as the chant stopped. Her voice was soft, stunted.
"You didn't. Tell me." She looked at Dawn, who's head was thrown back. "So much power,"
Damn. The Key. Nothing had come of Dawn's keyness in so long, that Xander had nearly forgotten about it. He certainly didn't think that a spirit summoning could pull the power out of her. A battle cry sounded over the roaring of the vampires in the lawn, and Xander snapped his eyes back to the window.
A shadowed form on horse back leaped out of nowhere, silver flashing. Several more vampires went down, and the General, a misty gray man on a towering black horse, turned about for a second pass. The vampires turned to meet him, as more approached the house.
A pale light, almost like a headlight in the distance, swam through the masses. Where it touched them, the vampires shrieked in pain and fell back. That, Xander knew, from Charlotte's stories, was the Hook Man. It didn't seem to be able to kill the vampires, but several were now fleeing the property, instead of approaching, which was fine with Xander. He peered closer, hoping to catch sight of the priest or the fourth spirit.
A Native war cry sounded through the darkness, and Xander winced. Native spirits gave him the heebie-jeebies. He hoped this one wouldn't decide to give him syphilis. He tried to catch sight of it, but all he could see were vampires falling back, their scalps peeling away. He choked down nausea and glanced back at the spell casters behind him. Charlotte was chanting again, softly this time, and the green continued to flow from Dawn to the elderly slayer. He turned back to the lawn.
The vampires' roar had turned into a keening wail. It took a moment for Xander to realize why. They were melting in the rain, steam pouring off of them. A pale form in white robes stood on the porch to the right of the doorway. Its hands were moving in a continual cross formation, as its mouth chanted silently in Latin. The ghost of the priest had blessed the rain. Xander sent mute thanks out towards the spirits, as those vampires not cowed by the General, the Hook Man, or the Native were slowly burned to ash by the falling water.
Ten minutes after the vampires had arrived, there was nothing left but dripping weapons and fallen bolts. The Priest turned towards him at the window and smiled. Xander, never religious and raised by Agnostic parents, was surprised to find he was crossing himself. The General saluted. The Native and the Hook Man were already gone. He watched the last two spirits fade away, and called out to Charlotte and Dawn over his shoulder.
"It's over."
"Xander, help!"
He spun around. Dawn was kneeling on the floor, her cheeks already red and raw. The fire in the crucible smoldered.
Charlotte lay on her back, her arms outspread, her blue eyes glazed and staring.
"Oh God," Dawn backed away as Xander slid to the floor beside the old form. "Oh God, Xander,"
He glanced up at her, his hand cupping Charlotte's throat. "She's dead."
end part two
Anyone with any ghost stories and folklore they'd like to pass along to me, suggestions of other beasties and things for our heros and their new girls to encounter, please do so! At the moment, I relying mostly on WeirdUS and WeirdNJ for information, as well as the various tales I've been told over the years. I know there's more out there to find, but I don't know where to look yet.
Roads Less Traveled
by Casix Thistlebane
Story 3: Sweet Home Alabama
Part Two
"She was really trained by Giles' grandfather? He's going to have a fit when I tell him." Buffy's voice was cheerful and energetic. Xander smiled into the telephone. "Though it does explain why he's been wandering around the hotel, muttering about how familiar the slayer's name was."
"Yeah, I'm thinking tweed must be genetic. The guy in the picture even looks like he's about to clean his glasses." Xander leaned back on Charlotte's couch in the living room. "She's a sweet heart, Buff. She made us breakfast this morning, more food than even I could eat, and she insisted we eat it all." He heard Buffy laugh.
"Xander, you eat more than anyone else I've ever known, slayers included. And you can't even match our metabolism. It's not wonder you were starting to pack on the weight around your middle."
"Hey, I'll have you know that my protective layer has kept me from freezing in the wintery climates you're sending me to. Dawn says that if we don't manage to get to Florida after this slayer, she's going on strike."
"How's Dawn doing? Wood's been getting her emailed assignments, but she hasn't sent a word to me."
"She's alright, I guess. She's having some trouble adjusting to life on the road, though. I'm sure she'll send you something eventually. But Wood has been keeping her pretty busy." Xander glanced toward the kitchen, where Charlotte was teaching Dawn how to make biscuits. "By the way, she says to tell him that Faulkner was a demon and his books a part of an evil plot to bore young girls to tears and distract them from the real world. She says its an anti-slayer conspiracy."
"I'll tell him. Oh, hold on." There was a pause, then he heard Buffy's and Wood's voices, muffled through what was probably Buffy's hand on the receiver. She came back a moment later. "He says 'congratulations, she's figured it out'. But now she has to write a paper on how the symbolism and the plot work together to create the greatest possible distraction. Can I talk to her?"
"She's talking to Charlotte right now, hold on." Xander stood and walked silently up to Dawn, who stirred the biscuit batter with utmost concentration. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at him, and he winked.
"You're going to put Andrew out of a business."
Dawn shrieked, and flung batter all over the kitchen wall in front of her. Then she spun, and flung it all over Xander. "That's the plan. He thinks he's all special as the official cook of Helsing Institute. Wait till he sees Dawn, the Biscuit Slayer!"
Charlotte smiled. "I think Dawn the Biscuit Slayer still needs some more one on one training with her watcher. You've got too much flour in there."
"Buffy wants to talk to you, Dawn."
The novice chef grimaced. "Damn, I keep forgetting to email her. She's probably pissed, right?"
"Just worried. Think you can take a break from the slaying of baked goods long enough to reassure her?"
"Yeah." Dawn slipped out of her apron. "If I don't, she'll probably ground me. You want to take over?"
"Nah, I don't cook. I'm just a master eater. Unless you need my help, Charlotte?"
"No, dear." Charlotte pulled a couple tupperware containers out of the cabinet above her. "This is going to take some concentration to fix. If you'd like to, though, I've got some old weapons in the attic that could use sharpening. I'd like to take care of at least some of those vampires before I head up north."
"Sure thing." Xander turned to follow Dawn out of the kitchen, then paused. "You're not going to try and take on those things by yourself, are you? Dawn and I are pretty good with the weaponry, but we're no where near the slayer army that it would take to get rid of those suckers."
"You'll find that most vampires aren't nearly as strong away from a hellmouth," Charlotte measured out some butter. "But you're right of course. No, I've got a plan. Vampires are rather cocky, they don't expect to trip over things like booby traps, especially not in the front lawn of an old woman. We'll set them up this afternoon, and see how many we can trip up by this evening. You sharpen up those weapons, I'll finish up here and then get some of my old summoning supplies out. There are a few local spirits we can probably call on for help as well."
"Spirits? Summoning supplies? What was old Giles senior teaching you in those days?"
"Lord Giles was a firm believer that a young slayer not rely on her physical strength alone. He discovered I had some talent towards astral communication, and trained me well in it. Surely your Giles is not a novice in communicating with the beyond himself?"
Xander thought back to the number of times he'd seen Giles recruit otherworldly aid, and smiled. Not to mention his days as Ripper, summoner of demons. "Novice, no. He never let Buffy do any of it though, and it took some convincing before he let Willow in on the act as well."
"That just means he's careful." Charlotte smiled. "I look forward to meeting your friends. And teaching your slayers what I've learned over the years. It's been so long since I've been anywhere near the slayer game. Perhaps I'm a romantic old woman, but I believe it should be fun."
"Barrel of laughs, Charlotte my girl, a barrel of laughs."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dawn stood by the side of the tracks. It was nearing sundown, and Charlotte had loaned her an old trench coat to keep her from getting too cold. It was starting to rain, a spitting drizzle, and she thought of the summer thunderstorms and cooling downpours of California with a nostalgic pang. This rain was cold and bitter, coming at them from every direction. No umbrella in the world would have kept them dry. Charlotte was wrapped in a purple poncho over a fur coat. Her hands were encased in fingerless, wool gloves, and they shook slightly as she lowered a match into a crucible at her feet. They were out to summon a spirit that Charlotte called the Hook Man, who roamed the railroads late at night. Dawn wasn't sure why the ghost of a railroad engineer would be willing to help them fight vampires, or what it could possibly do, but she was willing to try.
Xander was back at the house, setting up trip wires and buckets of holy water in the trees. With his experience as a carpenter and construction worker, he should be done by the time they got back, which was good, as Dawn was still worried that they wouldn't be ready by sun down.
"There," Charlotte murmured, stepping back from the blue-flamed bowl of herbs. Somehow the rain didn't put it out. "The offering is ready. We'll head back to the house now, to set up the spell itself."
The bowl was one of four that she and Charlotte had set out this afternoon, one in the cemetery to call on the ghost of an old general, one by the local church for a priest, and one in the middle of the woods, for an even older, unidentified spirit. The Hook Man was the last spirit they were going to call on. They'd set up the spell in Charlotte's front room, and she would provide the channeling energy while Charlotte provided the focus. Xander was to stand watch, and keep an eye on the proceedings in the lawn. Hopefully by morning, they'd be ready to head down south, and Charlotte would be packing for Cleveland. She smiled. She'd gotten a promise from Buffy earlier that, barring an emergency, she and Xander would get a chance for some time off in Orlando to visit the theme parks. Only a couple of days, mind you, but it was something, anyway.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Dawn lead the woman back to the car. "Four summoning spells in one, it sounds tricky."
"When it comes right down to it, dear," Charlotte patted her arm. "Magic can do anything you ask of it. You just have to know the right way to ask. Between both our energies, we should have no trouble calling up our help. Now, let's go see what Xander's been able to rig for us, shall we?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The rain picked up as soon as the sun finished settling over the mountains, turning dusk into full dark. Xander was standing just inside the front door, peering through the window with his sword at his side. Dawn and Charlotte sat in the front room, a flaming crucible between them. He nodded to them, and Charlotte began to chant.
The vampires arrived within moments of the darkness settling in. They lined the fence before the street, silently gathering. Several started to climb over the fence. Xander counted down silently in his head as one vampire opened the front gate. 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . .
The fishing line on the gate pulled snapped taut, and a line of blades, axes, swords, and sickles, flung themselves into the air at head level, taking out the front wave of vampires. Most were decapitated, some went down with flesh wounds before standing back up. They moved forward again, right into the low lying trip wire. Xander winced as the crossbows hidden in the bushes fired. The aim was off and that trap only managed to take out three of the vampires. The rest yanked the bolts out of arms, legs, and stomachs, and roared. Great, they'd made them angry.
Charlottes chant built in volume and intensity. She was shaking, and as he glanced over, he noticed Dawn begin to glow an unearthly green. Charlotte started to scream out the strange words, the green light flowing along their clasped arms into Charlotte. Her eyes snapped open as the chant stopped. Her voice was soft, stunted.
"You didn't. Tell me." She looked at Dawn, who's head was thrown back. "So much power,"
Damn. The Key. Nothing had come of Dawn's keyness in so long, that Xander had nearly forgotten about it. He certainly didn't think that a spirit summoning could pull the power out of her. A battle cry sounded over the roaring of the vampires in the lawn, and Xander snapped his eyes back to the window.
A shadowed form on horse back leaped out of nowhere, silver flashing. Several more vampires went down, and the General, a misty gray man on a towering black horse, turned about for a second pass. The vampires turned to meet him, as more approached the house.
A pale light, almost like a headlight in the distance, swam through the masses. Where it touched them, the vampires shrieked in pain and fell back. That, Xander knew, from Charlotte's stories, was the Hook Man. It didn't seem to be able to kill the vampires, but several were now fleeing the property, instead of approaching, which was fine with Xander. He peered closer, hoping to catch sight of the priest or the fourth spirit.
A Native war cry sounded through the darkness, and Xander winced. Native spirits gave him the heebie-jeebies. He hoped this one wouldn't decide to give him syphilis. He tried to catch sight of it, but all he could see were vampires falling back, their scalps peeling away. He choked down nausea and glanced back at the spell casters behind him. Charlotte was chanting again, softly this time, and the green continued to flow from Dawn to the elderly slayer. He turned back to the lawn.
The vampires' roar had turned into a keening wail. It took a moment for Xander to realize why. They were melting in the rain, steam pouring off of them. A pale form in white robes stood on the porch to the right of the doorway. Its hands were moving in a continual cross formation, as its mouth chanted silently in Latin. The ghost of the priest had blessed the rain. Xander sent mute thanks out towards the spirits, as those vampires not cowed by the General, the Hook Man, or the Native were slowly burned to ash by the falling water.
Ten minutes after the vampires had arrived, there was nothing left but dripping weapons and fallen bolts. The Priest turned towards him at the window and smiled. Xander, never religious and raised by Agnostic parents, was surprised to find he was crossing himself. The General saluted. The Native and the Hook Man were already gone. He watched the last two spirits fade away, and called out to Charlotte and Dawn over his shoulder.
"It's over."
"Xander, help!"
He spun around. Dawn was kneeling on the floor, her cheeks already red and raw. The fire in the crucible smoldered.
Charlotte lay on her back, her arms outspread, her blue eyes glazed and staring.
"Oh God," Dawn backed away as Xander slid to the floor beside the old form. "Oh God, Xander,"
He glanced up at her, his hand cupping Charlotte's throat. "She's dead."
end part two