Hey everyone! Well, this was less than a week but, oh well. This is part one of a chapter because I thought the chapter, before it was in two parts, was too long. Not sure, but here you go, the first of two parts. Thanks once again for the reviews, love those reviewers. Especially if you help me out by saying what you did, didn't like and so forth. No matter, enjoy!
Apocalypse Nowish
Chapter 10-Revelations Part 1
...
A distant hum of traffic echoed heedlessly in the empty lobby of a downtown hotel. Apart from this there was little sound, but for a faint drone of human voices coming from a closed office.
Gunn, Angel and Lorne were all huddling around the office desk, leaned as far as possible to gain a better view of Fred's lap top. A weak lamp on a shelf against the wall dimly lighted the room. Fred was squinting into her radiant white lap top screen, her eyes and mind scanning the many words and thoughts that bounced around inside her head. Angel was looking slightly agitated; it was clear that he was desperate to follow through with their plan to break into Wolfram and Hart. She figured it was all right for him as he had just spent a very long time confined within a tight container. Gunn was just hanging around, admiring the room (despite the many times he had seen it) and waiting for Fred to get something done. Lorne was faithfully watching the screen intently; he looked calm and relaxed in a blatant contrast to the others. She was working frantically to try and accomplish the challenging task of breaking into the Wolfram and Hart security system configuration, or at leat information program through the main server. They had their own server set up within their building, according to Angel. She did have a plan though; she would try and get a lock on a Wolfram and Hart user on the net and break into his own computer. If this were accomplished she would be on the main server and would simply have to hack her way through to find the security information.
"Ah!" She said, instantly drawing Angel and Gunn's wandering eyes to her screen.
"What is it?" Angel asked, leaning in.
"Well I just found a user online."
"So then you'll be able to, what, get onto his computer?" Asked Gunn.
"Ah, yeah that's pretty much it."
"Are you certain you'll be able to do it?" Asked Angel hastily.
"Break into the server? Definitely, but shutting down the security systems..."
"What?"
"Well it just depends if they allow any control over the security system from any old terminal." Angel looked worried. "Just give me some air and time." Angel realised he had been hovering right over Fred to see the screen closely. He immediately stepped back and walked back over to his spot against the wall. Lorne smiled slightly as he sat and listened to Fred's soothing typing against the hollow silence of the hotel.
----
Conner was startled when the soft click of a door broke the silent tension in the room. His two guards had barely managed to move inches since Gavin had left and he himself had grasped a firm hold over his straying thoughts, mislead into anger through the pain. He was still mad; his unquenchable thirst for revenge was only growing stronger with every second, as it had day by day. It wasn't even so much what they had done to him, hell, he had suffered far worse; he was just desperate for someone to lash out on, someone to blame. All his life he had pleaded for the kill, the taste of punishing something and now was no different. Conner knew that he was a tired spirit, content only for inflicting hurt and bearing it. As Lynwood strode confidently into the room, Conner felt his heart rush with hate. He was also amused to see Gavin dragging himself into the room behind Lynwood and two other self-important looking men with a pathetically resentful pace. Before him was a man who could put Gavin in his place.
Lynwood peered down at Conner as though he was a model, propped up against the wall for his amusement. He did indeed look amused, or at least greatly pleased at Conner's presence, as though he was an object Lynwood had wanted to add to his collection a very long time ago. Smiling broadly he dismissed the two guards who had been accompanying Conner for the last half of an hour. They abandoned the room compliantly. Lynwood took his place at the foreground of the room, leaving Gavin a dejecting place at the back where he occupied alongside the other two men.
"Well well. Finally I get to meet you."
"We've met."
"I prefer these circumstances, they're m..."
"You're a coward."
"Thanks for your pity, it was wasted. You see, I'm here to talk about Angel, for now anyway."
"It's always about Angel huh? Am I not interesting enough for you?"
"Personality wise, no. But in the profiteering frame you fit quite favourably. You are interesting to this company, Conner, therefore you are an interest of mine. We want to know everything about you, and I hope you can tell us soon."
"What? You've just ran a knife across my chest and now you want a personal conversation?"
"Please don't blame the good people at Wolfram and Hart for foolish acts on behalf of its less respected employers."
Gavin's face imploded into a scowl of hatred and resentment. He walked forward towards Gavin with a growing bout of confidence.
"LYNWOOD!"
Lynwood rolled his eyes privately to Conner before swinging around to face Gavin. They were standing before each other, their faces inches from the other. Gavin was scowling loathsomely, glaring piercingly into Lynwood's eyes. Lynwood wore a haughty smile and stared casually back at him.
"What is it Gavin?" He inquired with a cool, crisp tone.
"WHAT IS IT? Are you forgetting that it was I who captured Conner? That's right," he spat, "me! Not you!"
"Gavin, I think it is you who is short of memory or just brains in general. I, don't, care. You captured him, great, unfortunately for you I'm here now, which means, one, you get no credit for anything you did, and two, you have no authority over what happens from now on."
Gavin had been cringing with utter despair with every word that came from Lynwood's mouth. His confidence drained away and he finished looking saddened and mournful with a bitter undertone.
"Now go back over there and watch silently while I ask our guest a few questions."
Gavin complied unhappily, marching back to where he had been previously standing. He folded his arms and locked his eyes onto Lynwood, bearing a relentless angered expression. Lynwood smiled politely and turned back to Conner.
"Now Conner, Gavin tells me you told him where Angel was. Of course, Gavin didn't find him, so, I have to ask, were you telling the truth?"
Conner had previously taken leave from concentration to filter through his thoughts in a hope of finding a way of escape and now he was thinking more clearly.
"I'm not saying a thing unless I get out of here."
"Of course we'll let you out, Connor. We're not bad people; we just get the job done. Tell us where he is and we'll let you go."
"That simple is it?"
"Well you could have a whine about trust and all that rubbish but I'm here to business Conner. There is not trust, only facts and chance."
"What's the chance you'll let me go?"
"Well, if you don't tell us, then zero, you do, and, well, it's an improvement."
Conner sighed, his tired mind was searching valiantly for a response or a sense of reason but his body ached and he felt weakened with the slightest opportunity.
"I told you. It was the truth, Point Dune." He spoke softly and regretfully. Lynwood raised his brow in keen gesture of interest.
"So, you weren't lying after all. I knew you were smarter than that. If that is where he is, or was, could you possibly explain why we couldn't find him?"
Conner was looking down to the ground now, not wanting to spy his victors in the eye. He shook his head.
"I have no idea."
"You said the box was metal right? Steel?" Lynwood pushed.
Conner nodded. Lynwood changed his expression to one of deep concentration.
"Who else knew?"
"No other." Conner lied. There was a pause then Conner looked up when he heard a short burst of footsteps. He saw one of the to men whom had accompanied Lynwood into the office step forward and whisper into Lynwood's ears.
No
The man said this then stepped back between Gavin and the other man. Lynwood sighed sympathetically.
"Like I said, thought you were smart, kid."
Conner sneered. The Asian man who had stepped forward must have used magic to discern the credibility of his answers. Damn.
The other man stepped forward next to Lynwood. Lynwood nodded and sat back against the table, watching the man with interest. The tall, dark man had pulled out a small marble from his breast pocket and placed it in the open palm of his outstretched hand. He muttered a few words and then the marble glowed brilliant blue, waves of mystic light dancing at its edges, flickering hypnotically.
Conner shivered with fear; he didn't like the look of what stood before him. He never trusted magic but there was something sinister about the way the man held the orb and the cruel grin Lynwood bore. He caught a glimpse at Gavin; he was locked in position and retained a passionate glare of hate towards Lynwood. Conner managed a brief grin before a sudden burst of vivid, cruel pain shot through his head, obliterating all other thoughts and feelings.
---
This was the first time Gavin had shifted his burning eyes from Lynwood's despised back. He was now looking straight at Conner's pained, shocked, and horrified face, seeing the tears form at his eyes as he threw his head around and screamed from the depths of his voice. It was deafening but Gavin did not want to hear, he felt himself beginning to feel sorry for the boy, as would any human faced with the scene he was presented with. There was a hole right through Conner's forehead, the exact same size as the marble that had shot through it. Blood began to pour out, running down his face. Gavin didn't understand why they were doing this and just as he was wondering why they would want to kill him the hole disappeared just as suddenly as it had came, the blood was also gone from his face. It was as though it had never happened, well, if it weren't for Conner screaming and shaking his head wildly. Gavin now assumed the marble must have been some kind of probe, searching his mind for the truth. It was obvious that the process inflicted a hell of a lot of pain as Gavin wondered how much pain it would take to get someone as indifferent as Conner to howl with distraught.
The brief encounter with grief and concern finished abruptly as Gavin resumed his glare on Lynwood. Hate and remorse once more consumed him. Just half an hour ago he had been so happy, expecting to be greeted by a jovial and grateful Lynwood his glorious hopes had been harshly dashed. Now he felt like a fool, he hated himself for that, he felt betrayed, for that he hated Lynwood. Thoughts of revenge were beginning to etch into his mind, burrowing deeply into his every thought. Even greater than ever. He knew that he would go to any lengths to succeed here, he didn't want to be second best again, he didn't want to lose. Slowly he began to realise that he hadn't lost yet. He would have swift revenge. Lynwood will die.
---
"So, what have you found?" Asked Lilah looking over to Wesley who was still buried deep in the book.
She had to repeat the question before Wesley put the book down and looked over to her.
"Quite a bit actually."
"Elaborate."
"Well, I've seen a couple of mentions of the Wolf and there is definitely an apocalyptic feel to the book."
"That's all?"
"No. I'm getting a hell of a lot, but at the moment it's all disconnected information and I can't put it together. I've seen mentions of a vessel; lot's of talk about sacrifices and something about a hart. It's all just nonsense really."
"What about these demon things that were after me, the ones that looked identical."
"It speaks a lot of an ancient demon sect dedicated to bringing about the Apocalypse, or aiding it or something. It says that they can live among us in guise of kin."
"So, what, they can look like us?"
"Indeed. It seems they have been on the Earth from the very beginning," he looked up, frowning. "If a demonic sect of such importance has existed for so long I wonder; I wonder why would there be no record of them?"
"Are you sure these are the guys who are after me?"
"Like I said, not sure about anything yet." Wesley's voice fell slightly flat at the end of the sentence, so as, he thought, it would be blatantly obvious he was leaving out the details. Well, he looked over at his notepad, scanning across the hallowed sentence in the middle of the page, scribbled messily and doubtfully. He guessed she wasn't too observant, or maybe, just maybe, she was learning to trust him. It was just as well; learning what he had discovered in the book was something she wouldn't enjoy.
Blood of the Wolf, Blood of the Hart, for the soul of the Ram.
It was the only sentence he had been fully able to translate and he was sure of its integrity. He frowned at it apprehensively, the ominous words striking a deadly strong fear into his heart. He felt it though, as he glanced through the pages, he knew that something was going to happen, something soon, and it was going to be huge. A walk in the ocean, he could see the warning signs and he knew it was going to catch them off their feet. His mind now seemed to be rushing with fear and knowledge. Right now he knew he had to get this book to Angel, and he was no longer bothering to read the book, he was just itching to tell Angel, to make sure things play right. He was pretty sure Angel would soon be here, his plan had been pretty fool-proof, it was obvious that Angel would look for Cordelia, and it was obvious he would come to find him.
---
Pain was burning rapidly through Conner's head, no longer aware of his surroundings, he felt something inside of him draw him deep into reflection, memories. But it was strange, he felt nothing, he thought none, only did he watch the memories fly past, as though they were draped over his eyes in his sleep and somehow his eyes were open. He felt nothing but the pain as he watched.
He saw a wide, grim landscape stretched before him, a large, ominous figure stood in front of him, spreading his comforting arms out, as though to shield him. He watched himself, notably no older than 12, cowering behind the man. The man was Holtz, and his tall, strong shadow fell back upon Conner and the surrounding rock, thick black against the harsh light. He hid in the shadow, feeling the familiar, hard footsteps of hordes of warriors, through the rock at his bare feet. Holtz was wearing the brown leather jacket he had worn ever since Conner could remember. It was of this world, he must have bought it with him to Quotorth. His hands bore a crafted wooden staff; Conner remembered him making it, from the finest wood in Quotorth, not that there was much of that.
Conner watched his worn, scared face as he peered around the side of Holtz. Heavy thumping of footsteps and loud clanging of armour erupted around him. They were standing on a flat plateau of smooth rock; all around them were fields of dead grass and hardened ground. Conner saw the demons now, about ten of them, they were spread out and were strategically surrounding them. They moved loudly and cumbersomely through the pale yellow grass, yet advancing swiftly. Holtz did not back away. Conner saw himself cower and look around him at the approaching demons. They were shaped like humans and wore basic armour, their heads were black and leathery and their eyes were red. Every now and then they opened their mouth then snapped it shut, revealing dark, sharp teeth that looked like a jumbled mess of blades. They all sneered menacingly, intending to insight fear into their prey.
He saw himself biting his fingernail, as dirty and unkempt as it was, and breathing hard. The demons stepped slowly onto the rock, still advancing into the middle, were Holtz and his younger self stood. Holtz was now dancing around Conner, trying to see all sides of him at once. Finally the demons charged, holding their poorly crafted staves above their heads. Holtz danced around Conner stopping hard swings of staves, and putting his own hard blows to the enemy. One of the demons swung Holtz's leg but he struck his staff straight into the ground, stopping it, then flicking his staff forwards towards the demon's head. Due to the rather sharp rock tied sturdily onto its tip the staff ran into its head. Black blood scattered onto the light grey rock. Holtz fought harder and faster all around Conner as he gazed up in fear and admiration. Holtz began to shout as he fought valiantly.
"This is your father, Conner."
He ducked a strike and whacked the demon across the side of the face.
"I fight him now just as I did then, in my dreams, in my hunt, he's always there. His kin stalk me, prey me, and you with the evil they are stricken with."
He was whacked in the face and fell to the hard rock, Conner grimaced but sighed in relief as Holtz tripped a demon by whacking it in the side of its leg and jumped back to his feet, fending off several other attacks.
"Just as I am now, Conner, I saved you then, I saved you from having to live with the your father, knowing that he carries evil where ever he goes. I will always be here for you; I will never stop saving you Conner, but you must always trust me. Never trust good that is bestowed with evil, it will always carry something else. I carry you Conner, never forget that I carried you and I always will."
Conner saw the remaining three demons fall to the ground, thick, black blood trickling onto the stone. Holtz walked over to the young Conner and bent down to meet his eyes, putting his strong hands onto his shoulders. Suddenly Conner felt himself looking straight into the eyes of Holtz, through the hard, indifferent expression to the warm yet weary look in his eyes. Conner looked into his face, gazing deeper and deeper as though searching for an answer within Holtz's vague expression, an answer he knew not the question to. Suddenly, with a cruel flash he was looking into the eyes of a dead man. He was still staring deeply into his face but it was now pale and decrepit. Conner got a quick look into his eyes before he was suddenly standing metres back, watching himself lean before Holtz. He had caught something in that sudden glimpse of Holtz's grim, yet foreboding eyes; he knew it and although he didn't know what it was, it discomforted him greatly. Justine was hovering behind the Conner who was bent, in anguish over his dead mentor.
"Angelus." She said.
With a quick flash he was standing on the boat, watching himself and Justine seal the container, wherein Angel lay, bound tightly by steel ropes; he knew. Conner walked up to the container and looked down into Angel's face. This time he looked, as deeply into Angel's eyes as he could. When he had dropped him into the ocean Conner had been too enraged, too consumed by his lust for revenge to really listen or look to Angel. Now though, his mind seemed clearer, he wasn't sure why though he felt it was something to do with the feeling he had received from Holtz's dead eyes before. Once again as he saw Angel, ignoring the fuss he and Justine were making in the background he felt an ominous wave of suspicion or understanding rush over him. Abruptly, before Conner had had time to understand what he was feeling, he was pulled back into reality.
The pain hit him once again, in full force, throbbing throughout the entirety of his head, feeling as though someone was cutting it open and poking around. It had not come to him that, in his dreaming the pain had eluded him, in fact he felt completely disoriented, it was like being in another world. Barely conscious he felt something trickle, then pour down his forehead. He blinked a couple of times, trying to focus his sight, his thoughts. Then with just as little warning as it had come the pain left him. He felt fine, but for a slight disjointed feeling that throbbed throughout him. It felt as though he was only partly present. Nonetheless, he quickly opened hie eyes and scanned the room, as his thoughts flooded back to him he was passionately determined to find out what they had done to him, what had caused the severe pain and just as easily ceased it. As soon as he opened his dreary eyes and looked up he saw a small blue marble float through the room. The marble the man had opened his palm to reveal. He thought he understood as he gazed spitefully at the smiling man, whom the marble was heading towards. Damn. He looked to the floor; they had obviously sent that thing into his mind, revealed his memories and knowledge to it. It was certainly a whole lot better than interrogation.
The marble landed in the man's open palm and he closed his fingers gently around it and placed it in his pocket with a sly grin towards Conner. Conner sneered, with upmost contempt. Vengeful thoughts began to build up inside him once again. The man whispered in Lynwood's ear. Conner smiled with the private knowledge he could here every word they said.
One other saw, Justine, She lives 34 Fenton St.
Conner listened only half-heartedly; something was eating away at the back of his mind, a question that needed to be asked. He bottled up the feeling as best he could, not wanting it to dominate his thoughts. Lynwood smiled as the man retreated to the back of the room.
"Dear dear dear, Conner. What were you thinking?" His tone was thick with jovial mockery. "I live in lies, boy, I breathe it," his tone suddenly fell to a disquietingly serious, crisp voice. "You think I can't smell it when an arrogant boy like you blurts it out?"
"I DON"T CARE! Why should I? You do some fancy tricks and now I'm all impressed? I don't work like that."
"You should care! I guess you haven't worked it out yet. Now that we know everything you know all that's left of your stay is some interior probation, a little bodily examination if you get my gist, very painful stuff. Oh, and your friend Justine, we'll find her, we'll get her information then we'll kill her." With this Lynwood added a smile and a wink, got up from the table and strolled coolly towards the door.
"YOU BASTARD! I"LL KILL YOU!" Shouted Conner, at the top of his strained voice. In his rage meaning every word.
Lynwood stopped in his tracks, and, all though he only saw Lynwood's back he could sense a dark smile cross his face. Aroused by Conner's sudden eruption of anger, he swivelled round and faced him, with an eerie expression of joy.
"I'll kill you first." He said, with a self-indulgent chuckle. Conner glared as harshly as he could, but Lynwood turned back to the door indifferently. Then, as Lynwood placed his hand on the brass doorknob to leave, Conner caught something out of the corner of his eye. A short sharp, menacing movement. His eyes widened as he saw Gavin, bearing a vengeful expression and an out-of-mind glare, pick up a rather long, sharp dagger from the glass shelves. It was an ancient antique on display; its blade was long and steep, a point sharpened to the bone. Conner watched intently as Gavin, ignoring everyone else in the room held the dagger down beside his leg, stealthily advancing on Lynwood and raising the dagger as he approached.
With the force of a thousand tonnes a wave of realisation hit Conner. He threw his head back into the wall with a silent cry of deep, dark anguish. He understood it all.