Chapter Two: Darkness Risen
The sun beat down hard on the black Toyota. For all its effort, the sun could not penetrate the tinted windows. This was a life saving miracle for the vehicle's inhabitants. "Life" is perhaps not the best term since both men were, in fact, undead (side effects include: intense allergy to sunlight, crosses, and a tendency to turn to dust.) The scanner in Pat's hand beeped.
"Turn left, I think we found it!" Pat cried and Colin was quick to comply. The car raced down the street nearly knocking an old lady to the ground. "I can smell the world at our feet," said Pat. Colin sneered.
"You couldn't smell blood if it was on your face." The beep was getting more insistent.
"There! It's in there!" Pat was ecstatic.
"Very apt," chuckled Colin as he parked the car on the curb. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed. A deep accented voice answered.
"Report."
"We've found it, I repeat we have found it!"
"Bravo," was the reply. "So pray tell, where is my little Hellmouth hiding?"
"At the high school!"
"Thank you, Colin is it?"
"And Patrick!" Pat cut in, not willing to be sidelined.
"Yes, of course, Patrick and Colin, I thank you for your contribution. Here is your reward..." The tainted windows began to roll down letting the fatal sunlight in. The two vampires didn't even have time to scream. "Idiots," the Master chuckled. "Darla, my dear, I have found my Hellmouth."
"Good job," Darla said without feeling.
"I do not need your congratulations. In any case the first phase is almost complete and I feel that I must remind you that Angel and company are merely the sideshow. I am granting you a great deal of freedom. I have allowed you to partake in your own little schemes. I hope, for your sake, that you do not give me cause to regret it..."
Buffy wasn't in history class, or science class. She had made an appearance in English but her mind was elsewhere. It focus was primarily on the ridges, and fangs of one particular vampire.
"There's mention some two hundred years ago in Ireland of, Angelus, the one with the angelic face." Giles had said.
"They got that right," Buffy had muttered. She thought no one had heard but Xander made a gagging sound.
"Does this, uh, Angel have, um, a tattoo behind his right shoulder?" Giles was trying to be tactful.
"Yes," Buffy answered. "A bird or something
"You saw him naked?!" Xander had practically shouted. Giles continued as if Xander had not spoken.
"Angelus left Ireland, wreaks havoc in Europe for several decades, and then, um, about eighty years ago, the most curious thing happens. He, he comes to America, shuns other vampires and lives alone. There's, there's no record of him hunting here."
"So he's a good vampire?! I mean, on a scale of one to ten, ten being someone who's killing and maiming every night, and one being someone who's... not." Willow sounded hopeful, a good friend.
"Willow, there is no such thing as a good vampire. They are vicious and savage, nothing more than animals." Giles sounded almost reluctant, but facts were facts.
"It seems obvious what we do now," Xander, by contrast, was positively gleeful. "I mean: You Slayer, he Vampire," Xander mimed staking. Buffy didn't respond.
"I'm afraid that Xander is right, it is your duty..."Yes it was her duty but still, something seemed wrong...
Twilight fell, that small time between night and day when most began to wrap up their affairs. It was also the time when vampires began their prowls. Darla was out now. She had slipped out of the lair when the Master wasn't looking. Who was he to treat her like a child? She was well past her 500th year. She was no sideshow. Let the Master wave about his silly machines, she had more important things to do. Darla reached out to ring the doorbell. Angel didn't stand a chance.
"Hello," the door swung open to reveal Joyce Summers with an inquiring look in her eyes. "Can I help you?" Darla put on her most innocent smile.
"Hi Mrs. Summers, I'm Darla..." Joyce tilted her head as if to say: So? "Buffy didn't mention me?"
"No I don't remember..."
"We were supposed to study together. We have a history test tomorrow and..."
"Well, I'm sure she'll be here soon. Please come in." Darla's smile was diabolical.
The Master locked his mask in place and adjusted his jacket.
"Night has fallen," he whispered. "Come like a shroud to cloak us, to hide us." He chuckled bitterly. "Here I am, forced to slink in the shadows and hide my face from the sun. Forced to keep the company, if you may be called company, of vampires. Blood drinkers, twisted abhorrence made to roam the night so that the sun need not see your faces. In that, at least, we are alike. You will pay for this degradation. I will watch them drink you dry, Doctor." He was shouting by the end. Then he sighed and calmed himself. "But patience is a virtue. Come." He gestured to his minions. "Come, let us begin..."
"Mrs. Summers..." Darla skipped down the stairs.
"Yes dear?" Darla crept up behind Joyce.
"Is it ok if I find myself something to eat?" Darla didn't wait for a response. She grabbed Joyce's head and wrenched it back in a single motion. Her face took on its hellish visage and she sunk her fangs into the exposed neck.
The sound of struggle brought Angel charging in. He had been lingering outside arguing with himself. The sight brought him to a standstill. Against his will, Angel found his attention drawn to the blood on Joyce's neck. He could hear her heart pounding, pouring the rich liquid throughout her body. He felt a deep painful hunger course through him. Just a small taste, it wouldn't hurt. Darla smiled, as though she could read his thoughts. She threw the body carelessly to Angel.
"Go on, have a taste..." Angel had never seen a more delicious sight. His stomach rumbled. The heart eats grew louder until they threatened to drown out even his thoughts. Thump, thump. No this is, thump, wrong. She, thump, is, thump, I, thump, shouldn't, thump, do, thump, this, thump! Thump! Thump! He couldn't help it as his fangs slid easily into her throat. He almost didn't hear the key turn in the door. He looked up panicked. Darla waved a cheerful goodbye and exited via the back door.
"Buffy..." Angel whispered. She stared, motionless. She took in Angel's blood covered face, and the marks on her mother's neck. Fear, shock, and betrayal shot across her face but were replaced with hate pure, unadulterated hate, and rage. Angel had never, in 240 years, run as hard and fast as he did then but Buffy did not follow. She rushed to her mother's side. She hadn't been ready before but she was now. Angel would pay!
He didn't stop running until he reached his apartment. It was all over now, he had failed. He was also not alone.
"Get out!" There was unchecked menace in his voice but Darla paid no head.
"Is that any way to speak to your only friend?"
"You're not a friend."
"But I'm all you got, darling. I'm your only hope cause sooner or latter, your high school girl is gona come to kill you..." She paused to let her words sink in. "Join me Angel! Together we could bring the world to its knees, bath in the blood of innocents...literally."
"You disgust me!"
"I made you! I brought you up to be a proper little killer and you surpassed even me. So don't you dare say I disgust you! Angelus...Angel, the world could be ours. We could create a living hell for all the sheep, the cattle of humanity. We could reign supreme."
"We don't have that kind of power."
"My Master does!"
"The Master is dead."
"Yes, but I serve another Master now..."
Joyce's eyes flickered open. The hospital room was crowded, filled with Buffy. Her friends and a strange man who Joyce didn't know.
"Mom...?" Joyce's eyes focused on her daughter.
"Buffy, I don't..."
"Easy Mom, the Doctor said you should rest. You've lost a lot of blood."
"The Doctor..."
"Doctor Smith, he's new to the staff."
"Him?" Joyce gestured to the stranger.
"Oh no," Buffy smiled. "That's just Giles, the librarian."
"The librarian?" Joyce felt as though she was missing something. She never thought her daughter would know a librarian, much less what he was doing here.
"How do you do. I'm Rupert Giles." Joyce shook the offered hand. "We were all very worried."
W-what happened?" She directed the question to Giles but it was Buffy who answered.
"You were attacked!"
"Oh, um, is your friend ok?" Buffy looked puzzled.
"All my friends are here Mom."
"No what about that nice young girl...Darla I think she said her name was..." In her weakened state Joyce didn't wonder too much at the pure shock on her daughter's face.
The Library was empty. Everyone was at the hospital. Thus, there was no one to see the two dozen vampires as they swarmed the room lugging numerous pieces of advanced equipment. The anticipation was high. Success was at hand. The doors swung open and the Master strode in.
"A library, how quaint." He gestured around with a gloved hand. "I take it that this is it, the Mouth of Hell?"
"Yes Master." Snyder choose that moment to come charging in, undaunted.
"What do you think you're doing? This is a school. I have you all arrested if you don't leave immediately!" No one moved. "Listen this is my school and what I say goes!" The only reply was a chuckle and the muffled applause of two gloved hands.
"Little man, you should show more respect. You are in the company of many who would love to drain the blood from your veins..." The Master put an arm around Snyder's shoulders. "But don't be afraid. I'll save you..." His grip became tighter. "We are standing at the Gates of Hell itself. Perhaps, it would be prudent to knock...?" He lifted Snyder into the air effortlessly. "Go on, little man, knock..." Snyder's blood dripped onto the floor, slowly, inexorable to an accompanying chuckle...
Darla wiped the blood from her mouth, her blood, and chuckled.
"There's my boy." She stood up slowly and smirked.
"I'm no one's boy!"
"Oh but you are, Angelus. You're mine, my childe..." She spun and kicked sending him crashing through the door, shattering it. "And you are in dire need of punishment." Her eyes flashed an unholy yellow. She charged out the door, right into Angel's foot. As she doubled over, he grabbed her head and rammed it into the wall, hard. She grinned and ducked, kicking his legs from under him. She sat on his stomach and grinned down at him. "Don't you miss this, just a little?" He threw her off and sent her flying into the rickety staircase. Angel grabbed her by the neck and tossed her onto the next landing. He jumped up to meet her.
She rose to her feet gingerly.
"You still enjoy it though," she said. "No matter how much you deny it, you still love it." She blocked his blow, twisted his arm and delivered a kick to his stomach, all in one quick, simple, practiced motion. She sent him sprawling into the wall with such force that the plaster began to crack. "The violence is part of you and no pathetic curse will ever change that!" She sent him rolling down the stairs. He landed at Buffy's feet.
The library was alive now, alive with undead activity. Three alien devices formed a triangle of blinking lights in the center. In the middle of that circle lay Snyder, in a pool of his own blood. The Master made the final adjustment on one of the devices.
"Now, let us begin..." The air above the body began to shimmer and one could, from the corner of one's eye, see a huge cavern filled an unimaginable host of creatures. "No, not here..." The Master made another adjustment and the image shifted, as though the Master had changed the channel. One could now see a multitude of pure demons, big ones, small ones, even some with many arms, others with no arms at all. All were ancient, terrible and far greater than vampires. "Ah," the Master breathed. "There you are..." It was vaguely human in shape. That is to say it had two arms and two legs, both attached to a torso. It was, however, blue. Its wings emerged from its back like parasites. It had a wild unkempt beard. This was Atroxcis, Father Time. He was the Demon of Time, an abusive father to its web, a cruel overlord. The Master smiled. "I'll deal with you later," he murmured for he had found what he sought. "Let us remove it from its prison." The very air was split asunder and from that gash emerged a dark cabinet, forged of smooth obsidian. It lowered gently to the ground. The Master turned all his equipment off. His business was concluded, for now. "Bring it," he commanded. "Bring it with us." He caressed the smooth surface, felt a familiar vibration. "At last, my Tardis is restored to me!"
"And here she comes now," Darla smiles as she descended. "Your girl, ready willing and able to reduce you into so much ash on the wind. It's kill or be killed, Angel, kill or be killed..." Angel didn't move. He just lay motionless at Buffy's feet that single act telling her all she needed to know. "What, not going to lift fist or fang? Fine..." Darla shrugged and met Buffy's eyes. "Sorry honey, but Angelus is feeling a little under the weather. Maybe you should come back tomorrow..." There was only one response Buffy could make.
"Bitch!" Darla just laughed and clutched her non-beating heart.
"Ow! That cut deep but do you know what would hurt more?" The smell of gun smoke filled the air. Smoke trickled from the barrel like blood. "If you guessed bullets then you'd be right." Buffy sunk to her knees the spot of red expanding rapidly. "There, you see Angel, she's not too bad. Finish her Angel!" She punched Buffy hard. The sound of her jaw breaking was audible. "Well Angel?" No response. "Angel?" The piece of wood penetrated her heart. "Angel?" She was incredulous. Darla exploded in a cloud of dust. Angel dropped the splinter from his door and rushed to Buffy's side. He said nothing but then actions do speak louder than words.
"Where is Darla?" No one answered. "Well? Answer!" Finally one of the lesser vampires came forward hesitantly.
"Master," he said. "Darla is dead!"
"The Slayer!" The Master growled.
"No sir, I think it was Angelus..." At that the Master seemed to calm. His voice was icy.
"Tell me she at least planted my device."
"Yes sir, and she put the Slayer in the hospital, sir." The Master chuckled.
"Well, it is no great loss. She was arrogant and disobedient. Besides, I told her that Angelus would be the death of her. Oh well, such is fate." He pulled a remote control from his pocket and entered a series of commands. The device Darla had placed in Buffy's room began to tick: 5:00 it now read. The Master smiled grimly. "Soon the Slayer will have nothing left to live for!"
"Respectfully," one of the braver minions ventured. "You may actually give her a more powerful motive, revenge." The Master regarded him for a moment. 4:35.
"Perhaps you're right. I think it is time to bring in an expert." The Master chuckled. "James," he called. The vampire in question stepped forward.
"Master?"
"I want you to find William..."
"William?" James interrupted.
"Oh yes, I forgot. He goes by another name now. Does a vampire called Spike ring a bell? I think he's in Prague somewhere. Tell him the Reverend Magister needs a favor..."
The dial now read 0:05. An owl hooted and several cars drove by. Then the countdown was complete and the Summers residence exploded, igniting the night sky with the orange of flame. Within moments the house was reduced to rubble. Not even Mr. Gordo survived...
It was exactly 1:35 in the morning and Mrs. Joyce Summers was lying in a hospital bed. Her daughter was in the next bed on the right with a gunshot wound and her home was in ruins. She was sleeping peacefully unaware of any of it. Buffy, however, was wide-awake. She was kept awake by a single thought: whoever the new big bad was, he was just getting started...
The sun beat down hard on the black Toyota. For all its effort, the sun could not penetrate the tinted windows. This was a life saving miracle for the vehicle's inhabitants. "Life" is perhaps not the best term since both men were, in fact, undead (side effects include: intense allergy to sunlight, crosses, and a tendency to turn to dust.) The scanner in Pat's hand beeped.
"Turn left, I think we found it!" Pat cried and Colin was quick to comply. The car raced down the street nearly knocking an old lady to the ground. "I can smell the world at our feet," said Pat. Colin sneered.
"You couldn't smell blood if it was on your face." The beep was getting more insistent.
"There! It's in there!" Pat was ecstatic.
"Very apt," chuckled Colin as he parked the car on the curb. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed. A deep accented voice answered.
"Report."
"We've found it, I repeat we have found it!"
"Bravo," was the reply. "So pray tell, where is my little Hellmouth hiding?"
"At the high school!"
"Thank you, Colin is it?"
"And Patrick!" Pat cut in, not willing to be sidelined.
"Yes, of course, Patrick and Colin, I thank you for your contribution. Here is your reward..." The tainted windows began to roll down letting the fatal sunlight in. The two vampires didn't even have time to scream. "Idiots," the Master chuckled. "Darla, my dear, I have found my Hellmouth."
"Good job," Darla said without feeling.
"I do not need your congratulations. In any case the first phase is almost complete and I feel that I must remind you that Angel and company are merely the sideshow. I am granting you a great deal of freedom. I have allowed you to partake in your own little schemes. I hope, for your sake, that you do not give me cause to regret it..."
Buffy wasn't in history class, or science class. She had made an appearance in English but her mind was elsewhere. It focus was primarily on the ridges, and fangs of one particular vampire.
"There's mention some two hundred years ago in Ireland of, Angelus, the one with the angelic face." Giles had said.
"They got that right," Buffy had muttered. She thought no one had heard but Xander made a gagging sound.
"Does this, uh, Angel have, um, a tattoo behind his right shoulder?" Giles was trying to be tactful.
"Yes," Buffy answered. "A bird or something
"You saw him naked?!" Xander had practically shouted. Giles continued as if Xander had not spoken.
"Angelus left Ireland, wreaks havoc in Europe for several decades, and then, um, about eighty years ago, the most curious thing happens. He, he comes to America, shuns other vampires and lives alone. There's, there's no record of him hunting here."
"So he's a good vampire?! I mean, on a scale of one to ten, ten being someone who's killing and maiming every night, and one being someone who's... not." Willow sounded hopeful, a good friend.
"Willow, there is no such thing as a good vampire. They are vicious and savage, nothing more than animals." Giles sounded almost reluctant, but facts were facts.
"It seems obvious what we do now," Xander, by contrast, was positively gleeful. "I mean: You Slayer, he Vampire," Xander mimed staking. Buffy didn't respond.
"I'm afraid that Xander is right, it is your duty..."Yes it was her duty but still, something seemed wrong...
Twilight fell, that small time between night and day when most began to wrap up their affairs. It was also the time when vampires began their prowls. Darla was out now. She had slipped out of the lair when the Master wasn't looking. Who was he to treat her like a child? She was well past her 500th year. She was no sideshow. Let the Master wave about his silly machines, she had more important things to do. Darla reached out to ring the doorbell. Angel didn't stand a chance.
"Hello," the door swung open to reveal Joyce Summers with an inquiring look in her eyes. "Can I help you?" Darla put on her most innocent smile.
"Hi Mrs. Summers, I'm Darla..." Joyce tilted her head as if to say: So? "Buffy didn't mention me?"
"No I don't remember..."
"We were supposed to study together. We have a history test tomorrow and..."
"Well, I'm sure she'll be here soon. Please come in." Darla's smile was diabolical.
The Master locked his mask in place and adjusted his jacket.
"Night has fallen," he whispered. "Come like a shroud to cloak us, to hide us." He chuckled bitterly. "Here I am, forced to slink in the shadows and hide my face from the sun. Forced to keep the company, if you may be called company, of vampires. Blood drinkers, twisted abhorrence made to roam the night so that the sun need not see your faces. In that, at least, we are alike. You will pay for this degradation. I will watch them drink you dry, Doctor." He was shouting by the end. Then he sighed and calmed himself. "But patience is a virtue. Come." He gestured to his minions. "Come, let us begin..."
"Mrs. Summers..." Darla skipped down the stairs.
"Yes dear?" Darla crept up behind Joyce.
"Is it ok if I find myself something to eat?" Darla didn't wait for a response. She grabbed Joyce's head and wrenched it back in a single motion. Her face took on its hellish visage and she sunk her fangs into the exposed neck.
The sound of struggle brought Angel charging in. He had been lingering outside arguing with himself. The sight brought him to a standstill. Against his will, Angel found his attention drawn to the blood on Joyce's neck. He could hear her heart pounding, pouring the rich liquid throughout her body. He felt a deep painful hunger course through him. Just a small taste, it wouldn't hurt. Darla smiled, as though she could read his thoughts. She threw the body carelessly to Angel.
"Go on, have a taste..." Angel had never seen a more delicious sight. His stomach rumbled. The heart eats grew louder until they threatened to drown out even his thoughts. Thump, thump. No this is, thump, wrong. She, thump, is, thump, I, thump, shouldn't, thump, do, thump, this, thump! Thump! Thump! He couldn't help it as his fangs slid easily into her throat. He almost didn't hear the key turn in the door. He looked up panicked. Darla waved a cheerful goodbye and exited via the back door.
"Buffy..." Angel whispered. She stared, motionless. She took in Angel's blood covered face, and the marks on her mother's neck. Fear, shock, and betrayal shot across her face but were replaced with hate pure, unadulterated hate, and rage. Angel had never, in 240 years, run as hard and fast as he did then but Buffy did not follow. She rushed to her mother's side. She hadn't been ready before but she was now. Angel would pay!
He didn't stop running until he reached his apartment. It was all over now, he had failed. He was also not alone.
"Get out!" There was unchecked menace in his voice but Darla paid no head.
"Is that any way to speak to your only friend?"
"You're not a friend."
"But I'm all you got, darling. I'm your only hope cause sooner or latter, your high school girl is gona come to kill you..." She paused to let her words sink in. "Join me Angel! Together we could bring the world to its knees, bath in the blood of innocents...literally."
"You disgust me!"
"I made you! I brought you up to be a proper little killer and you surpassed even me. So don't you dare say I disgust you! Angelus...Angel, the world could be ours. We could create a living hell for all the sheep, the cattle of humanity. We could reign supreme."
"We don't have that kind of power."
"My Master does!"
"The Master is dead."
"Yes, but I serve another Master now..."
Joyce's eyes flickered open. The hospital room was crowded, filled with Buffy. Her friends and a strange man who Joyce didn't know.
"Mom...?" Joyce's eyes focused on her daughter.
"Buffy, I don't..."
"Easy Mom, the Doctor said you should rest. You've lost a lot of blood."
"The Doctor..."
"Doctor Smith, he's new to the staff."
"Him?" Joyce gestured to the stranger.
"Oh no," Buffy smiled. "That's just Giles, the librarian."
"The librarian?" Joyce felt as though she was missing something. She never thought her daughter would know a librarian, much less what he was doing here.
"How do you do. I'm Rupert Giles." Joyce shook the offered hand. "We were all very worried."
W-what happened?" She directed the question to Giles but it was Buffy who answered.
"You were attacked!"
"Oh, um, is your friend ok?" Buffy looked puzzled.
"All my friends are here Mom."
"No what about that nice young girl...Darla I think she said her name was..." In her weakened state Joyce didn't wonder too much at the pure shock on her daughter's face.
The Library was empty. Everyone was at the hospital. Thus, there was no one to see the two dozen vampires as they swarmed the room lugging numerous pieces of advanced equipment. The anticipation was high. Success was at hand. The doors swung open and the Master strode in.
"A library, how quaint." He gestured around with a gloved hand. "I take it that this is it, the Mouth of Hell?"
"Yes Master." Snyder choose that moment to come charging in, undaunted.
"What do you think you're doing? This is a school. I have you all arrested if you don't leave immediately!" No one moved. "Listen this is my school and what I say goes!" The only reply was a chuckle and the muffled applause of two gloved hands.
"Little man, you should show more respect. You are in the company of many who would love to drain the blood from your veins..." The Master put an arm around Snyder's shoulders. "But don't be afraid. I'll save you..." His grip became tighter. "We are standing at the Gates of Hell itself. Perhaps, it would be prudent to knock...?" He lifted Snyder into the air effortlessly. "Go on, little man, knock..." Snyder's blood dripped onto the floor, slowly, inexorable to an accompanying chuckle...
Darla wiped the blood from her mouth, her blood, and chuckled.
"There's my boy." She stood up slowly and smirked.
"I'm no one's boy!"
"Oh but you are, Angelus. You're mine, my childe..." She spun and kicked sending him crashing through the door, shattering it. "And you are in dire need of punishment." Her eyes flashed an unholy yellow. She charged out the door, right into Angel's foot. As she doubled over, he grabbed her head and rammed it into the wall, hard. She grinned and ducked, kicking his legs from under him. She sat on his stomach and grinned down at him. "Don't you miss this, just a little?" He threw her off and sent her flying into the rickety staircase. Angel grabbed her by the neck and tossed her onto the next landing. He jumped up to meet her.
She rose to her feet gingerly.
"You still enjoy it though," she said. "No matter how much you deny it, you still love it." She blocked his blow, twisted his arm and delivered a kick to his stomach, all in one quick, simple, practiced motion. She sent him sprawling into the wall with such force that the plaster began to crack. "The violence is part of you and no pathetic curse will ever change that!" She sent him rolling down the stairs. He landed at Buffy's feet.
The library was alive now, alive with undead activity. Three alien devices formed a triangle of blinking lights in the center. In the middle of that circle lay Snyder, in a pool of his own blood. The Master made the final adjustment on one of the devices.
"Now, let us begin..." The air above the body began to shimmer and one could, from the corner of one's eye, see a huge cavern filled an unimaginable host of creatures. "No, not here..." The Master made another adjustment and the image shifted, as though the Master had changed the channel. One could now see a multitude of pure demons, big ones, small ones, even some with many arms, others with no arms at all. All were ancient, terrible and far greater than vampires. "Ah," the Master breathed. "There you are..." It was vaguely human in shape. That is to say it had two arms and two legs, both attached to a torso. It was, however, blue. Its wings emerged from its back like parasites. It had a wild unkempt beard. This was Atroxcis, Father Time. He was the Demon of Time, an abusive father to its web, a cruel overlord. The Master smiled. "I'll deal with you later," he murmured for he had found what he sought. "Let us remove it from its prison." The very air was split asunder and from that gash emerged a dark cabinet, forged of smooth obsidian. It lowered gently to the ground. The Master turned all his equipment off. His business was concluded, for now. "Bring it," he commanded. "Bring it with us." He caressed the smooth surface, felt a familiar vibration. "At last, my Tardis is restored to me!"
"And here she comes now," Darla smiles as she descended. "Your girl, ready willing and able to reduce you into so much ash on the wind. It's kill or be killed, Angel, kill or be killed..." Angel didn't move. He just lay motionless at Buffy's feet that single act telling her all she needed to know. "What, not going to lift fist or fang? Fine..." Darla shrugged and met Buffy's eyes. "Sorry honey, but Angelus is feeling a little under the weather. Maybe you should come back tomorrow..." There was only one response Buffy could make.
"Bitch!" Darla just laughed and clutched her non-beating heart.
"Ow! That cut deep but do you know what would hurt more?" The smell of gun smoke filled the air. Smoke trickled from the barrel like blood. "If you guessed bullets then you'd be right." Buffy sunk to her knees the spot of red expanding rapidly. "There, you see Angel, she's not too bad. Finish her Angel!" She punched Buffy hard. The sound of her jaw breaking was audible. "Well Angel?" No response. "Angel?" The piece of wood penetrated her heart. "Angel?" She was incredulous. Darla exploded in a cloud of dust. Angel dropped the splinter from his door and rushed to Buffy's side. He said nothing but then actions do speak louder than words.
"Where is Darla?" No one answered. "Well? Answer!" Finally one of the lesser vampires came forward hesitantly.
"Master," he said. "Darla is dead!"
"The Slayer!" The Master growled.
"No sir, I think it was Angelus..." At that the Master seemed to calm. His voice was icy.
"Tell me she at least planted my device."
"Yes sir, and she put the Slayer in the hospital, sir." The Master chuckled.
"Well, it is no great loss. She was arrogant and disobedient. Besides, I told her that Angelus would be the death of her. Oh well, such is fate." He pulled a remote control from his pocket and entered a series of commands. The device Darla had placed in Buffy's room began to tick: 5:00 it now read. The Master smiled grimly. "Soon the Slayer will have nothing left to live for!"
"Respectfully," one of the braver minions ventured. "You may actually give her a more powerful motive, revenge." The Master regarded him for a moment. 4:35.
"Perhaps you're right. I think it is time to bring in an expert." The Master chuckled. "James," he called. The vampire in question stepped forward.
"Master?"
"I want you to find William..."
"William?" James interrupted.
"Oh yes, I forgot. He goes by another name now. Does a vampire called Spike ring a bell? I think he's in Prague somewhere. Tell him the Reverend Magister needs a favor..."
The dial now read 0:05. An owl hooted and several cars drove by. Then the countdown was complete and the Summers residence exploded, igniting the night sky with the orange of flame. Within moments the house was reduced to rubble. Not even Mr. Gordo survived...
It was exactly 1:35 in the morning and Mrs. Joyce Summers was lying in a hospital bed. Her daughter was in the next bed on the right with a gunshot wound and her home was in ruins. She was sleeping peacefully unaware of any of it. Buffy, however, was wide-awake. She was kept awake by a single thought: whoever the new big bad was, he was just getting started...