Hello everybody! Back again! It's been more than a week but my internet access was strained a little. Here we are with the conclusion to last week's chapter (not the story). Incase I've rushed into it and the story is too complicated or you can't remember events from previous chaps I've compiled a recap.
Connor trapped Angel and dropped him into the ocean.
Wesley captured Justine and used her to find and rescue Angel.
Angel dreamt as he was released from the ocean.
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"I believe it was my farther who taught me how to hate, soul, or no soul." Angel spoke to Darla.
"You've got to understand it's not how we do things that matters, it's what we do" Angel said to a proffessor.
1792, Luxembourg.
"I take it you're Asheara." Angel met a white-robed priestess who spoke to him of the world inevitable end.
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Angel went to find Wes to get Cordelia but discovered that he had been captured by Wolfram and Hart. Angel planned to break in and retrieve him.
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Lilah was called to speak to the girl in the white room. She spoke of a coming apocalypse.
"It's coming Lilah, the end, the beginning, everything everyone has fought for will come together," her voice continued to rise with power and passion as she spoke, "like the lamb of the alter, death is without vein. From the seventh day every sacrifice brings us closer." She spoke every word now as though it was sacred, like a preacher. "Lilah, know that you are the Wolf and when the vessel calls you must come."
Lilah found a place she could research what she had been told. A ghostly appearance of scrawled words that spoke to her, told her to take a marked book. She was attacked by two, identical human-looking men.
She captured Wesley to translate the book. Wesley discovered about the two men,
"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."
He discovered a line of text crucial to the coming apocalypse.
Blood of the Wolf, Blood of the Hart, for the soul of the Ram.
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Connor was captured by Wolfram and Hart and tortured by Gavin. Lynwood returned and degraded Gavin's authority and pride. Gavin took a weapon and prepared to kill Lynwood.
Connor remembered things from his past snippets of his relationship with Holtz, and after seeing something he'd never seen in him before and viewing the hatred on gavin's eyes he understood it all.
Apocalypse Nowish
Chapter 11- Revelations part 2.
---
Angel stood tall at the foot of a long, wide, yet gradually risen staircase. He was standing right in the centre of the first step, standing still and looking up at the imposing structure up the stairs before him. Large silver letters printed on a sleek granite block spelt the cruel words, Wolfram and Hart. Behind him the road yawned with the few cars upon it. Only every now and then did the dim effect of headlights or the sound of a frosted engine echo meaninglessly behind his still figure. The barely visable ridges of a rising sun posed either side of the building, lapping fiercely at the weakening night sky. The fresh, morning air was prominent and Angel breathed deeply.
Perhaps he could have chosen a better time to break into Wolfram and Hart. He had not been taking many things that he would usually be quick to consider, Daylight, for example. Fear and casual consideration had all but abandoned him now, left only with a deep, lustful longing to get things back to normal as swiftly as possible. He was on a mission; he was going to get everyone back and he was willing to do whatever it took. He no longer cared for silent worries such as the threatening shadows of light that frayed the night sky and the hills on the horizon. He took a deep, hearty breath, filling his soul with new life and energy. He rose a step, then another, until he picked up his pace and marched through the centre of the wide steps, strolling briskly towards the approaching glass doors.
As he walked he pulled out his cell phone and flicked down the top. He called the number Fred had given him, and within a second she was on the other end.
"Is it all ready?"
"Yup, the good people at Wolfram and Hart can expect a early morning fire drill. Well, they shouldn't really expect it if–"
"–Thanks. Well done Fred, wish me luck."
"Good luck."
"Ready, set" He hang up and dropped the phone casually back into his breast pocket. The glass doors gave a faint bing' as he stepped through them. Raising his eyes to the practically empty reception, he stood in the middle of the open doors with a dark smile. With a sudden eruption the piercing sound of the fire alarms shook the stagnant night air. The guy at the reception jumped off his chair, cruelly awoken from a light doze. Angel watched as the man stumbled around in panic and shock then placed a foot across the barrier, stepping onto the cool marble floor of Wolfram and Hart.
---
Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, he the meaningless movement around him only dimly through the vivid, thick beat of his heart. His mind was racing, relieved of a pending question he was suddenly thrown into world of pain and despair. He felt everything tumbling down around him, as though it mattered none, all his thoughts wrapped tightly around his pain. Everything he knew about his father, everything he had lived for, revenge against his father, it all meant nothing. It was heartless bitter ranting from and old, pathetic man. All his actions for the past years had been completely focused on the hate he felt for Angelus and the respect he knew and cherished for Holtz. Holtz had wanted this; it had been his undying lust for revenge that had taught Conner to be strong, not wise words of love and care. Holtz had taken his sweet vision of causing pain to Angelus to the death, using Conner to do the dirty work. His mind flashed back to Holtz's dead eyes, this time he saw clearly the bittersweet satisfaction, the pathetic façade of triumph, imbedded deep into his eyes. In fact Conner could see Holtz's whole face decrepit from the hate that consumed it. Conner felt no love there; he despised the foul sight of his betrayer, the coward who had used him his whole life, who had felt nothing more for him than the demons he said he was saving him from. After catching a silent flash of glee in Gavin's eyes he knew now what he had been feeling in his heart for so long. Through comparison he saw that Holtz was always about revenge, in everything he did, nothing else mattered to him. Now Conner knew, or felt, that Angel did have love for him. Holtz had told him of the evil within him when he was no better himself for now he was sure of one thing above all; Angelus was not his killer. He had also seen this in Angel's pain stricken eyes when he had peered down into them. Everything suddenly dropped into place and revealed itself as what it really meant. He felt now how Angel must have felt; Conner had been fooling him into believing he loved Angel and was happy to be with him only to sentence him to eternal torture.
Conner felt the tears begin to flood from his eyes and roll despairingly down his bruised cheeks. His breaths sobbed with a deep pain that came from his revelation. Everything he had known or had come to believe was a lie; his whole life was a sweetly crafted web of lies, a web to catch Angel. Now he knew that he had banished the only person who had ever loved him.
He bit his lip with the pain of realisation but suddenly he threw himself into a violent outburst, trying to damper the harsh fire in his heart by feeling physical pain. He screamed loudly and smashed his head backward into the blaster wall behind him.
---
Gavin's mind was dim. He had, just seconds ago been ready to tear his head off to cease its blinding rage. His mind had been racing with a thousand thoughts, a thousand plans of action. Now, though, he knew what he wanted to do and he knew how to do it. He felt no more deep questions of morals as he edged forward quietly, his knife gripped tightly in his shaking hand. His mind was left dull and he felt as though he had no soul, he was just an empty corpse lumbering fixedly towards his target. He knew without the slightest of doubt that he was going to kill that bastard who was now standing in the doorway, accompanied by his two aids he walked slowly as though he had all the time in the world and the right to enjoy it. It seemed strange to Gavin, having decided to commit murder; in most movies he'd seen whenever it came right down to it people would hesitate, as though unsure, for him the decision had already been made.
He was going to kill that son of a bitch who thought he was just a doormat ready to be trampled upon then beaten when dirty. He had been here long enough to know the ropes; he was sure killing Lynwood would have its advantages. Perhaps guarantee a promotion, of course if he were wrong they would likely kill him. He didn't much care for worries of any sought now. He knew this was his only chance to make it, this was the final shot, his last chance to make something of himself and renounce bowing to his oppressors, his superiors.
He took a huge gulp as his last, loud echoing footstep stopped about 3 inches behind Lynwood. Gavin's knife was fully raised above his head and suddenly everything began to move slowly, his fast heartbeat a slow thump, fitting background as he watched the knife, gripped maliciously in his hand drew downwards. It was heading straight towards Lynwood's neck. The knife fell straight to its target with the all Gavin's might.
Suddenly a loud piercing scream emerged from behind them and then a large crashing noise. As his knife cut through the air Lynwood's body shifted slightly as he turned to face the screaming. It happened suddenly and shockingly. Blood splattered across Gavin's face and suit as his knife plunged into Lynwood's shoulder. Everything appeared to Gavin as glorified flashes, images, imprinted in his mind by their lingering sense of horror. The moment the blood came gushing out and the scream rang out into the small room it all happened in terrifying flashes for him. The realisation of what he had done, or more primarily, what he had planned to do. He drew the knife back, his eyes widening with the cruel, twisted images of the glaring red blood covering the knife. He realised all at once, now that the rage had suddenly drained from him, how wrongly he had acted, and he could no longer feel any place inside of him that would commit to such horrific desires. The blood and the pain he saw sunk back into him. It felt as though the past five minutes was just a huge, engulfing haze, as though he was not in his own mind. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wide, his face dumbfounded. He stepped back slowly and dazedly, away from the horror. Lynwood screamed out in pain and stumbled backwards into the open door that lay against the wall.
Gavin felt his heart beat with horror and sudden compassion, he felt his grip around the bloody knife fail and he was about to let it drop to the floor in his overwhelming grief. Gavin was no longer sensing the movements of the world around him, he was aware of nothing but the deep wound he felt in his heart. He didn't even make an attempt to move as the Asian man's hand spread open and swiftly raised towards him; it didn't register, his mind cared for nothing any longer. All of this was happening in mere seconds, the room had suddenly burst into life, everyone was playing a apart in what transpired as though they were in a heavily rehearsed play, a dance.
A sudden, invisible force hit Gavin in the chest. He was suddenly bought back to reality with a jarring pain and heavy force that lifted him off his feet and flew him over the table and harshly into the wooden wall, beside Connor. Just before he had been blown away by the blast he had managed to grip on to his knife as though he were holding his only chance to live. The dark businessman helped Lynwood to his feet and held his arm to his shoulder. The man raised back his head to the ceiling and began a steady chant as he firmly gripped Lynwood's wound.
The scream had forcefully awoken Connor from his grave of pain and distress. His whole life had been suddenly turned upside down with a single notion. He had just realised he had lived for nothing. But the scream, the blood-curdling cry of pain had pulled him back. He had looked up just in time to see a flash of blood spurt onto the floor and Lynwood fall back to the door, gripping his bleeding shoulder, sobbing with the pain. As Lynwood cringed with the wound he saw the two men who were accompanying him spring into action. He saw Gavin standing, immobilised by the blunt shock of what he had done, and then knife slide slowly out from his hand. Connor's mind was back in the game now, his eyes were open and he swallowed his pain to react to the situation. He watched everyone as they moved slowly to his mind. He knew how to think quick and right now he was scanning every action, every movement of the room to find if he could use it to his advantage. Suddenly he saw Gavin being launched off his feet and fly towards Connor through the air. Connor's mind clicked, he knew how he could win, and he had to use this, his only chance to get out. Connor suddenly leant to the side as Gavin's back slammed into the wall next to him and slumped down, into a drowsy sitting position. Connor, who had previously noted that Gavin had gripped the knife still as he hit the wall, spared no time in reaching out and grabbing his neck, pulling Gavin towards him in a fierce grip.
Abruptly the pain left him. Lynwood blinked a few times before opening his watery eyes to see his assistant leaned over to him smiling comfortingly. His assistant's hand was outstretched and rested just above his wound. He looked down at his shoulder. The suit was torn but he saw the soothing skin unbathed in blood and completely unscathed. The man put his arm back to his side and helped him up. Lynwood felt his legs tremble a little bit but then he felt the shock leave him just as the pain had.
"Thankyou Michael. I owe you one." Lynwood spoke before throwing out his fingers in front of him and bending them through entwined hands. A loud crack rang out and he suddenly shot his head around to the rest of the scene. Lynwood felt the surge of power and fun come over him once more as he saw Gavin held tightly by Connor around the neck, sobbing in despair. His other assistant had his hand pointing over to them, at the ready. Lynwood smiled and walked over to the table. He took a comfortable position and stared at the fierce Connor with an oblivious grin. They stared into each other's eyes for minutes, Connor becoming ever more angry and Lynwood smirking resolutely.
Connor felt his heart beat faster. He began to fear his threat was worth nothing, and he hated seeing Lynwood having the time of his life. The thoughts of revenge that usually clouded his head were absent. Connor was holding them deep inside of himself. He had resolved that he would become a better person, someone who could love and be loved. He realised that this man was just getting in his way, an annoyance. Unexpectedly Lynwood burst out in a sudden fit of hysterical laughter. Connor frowned as he watched him crackle joyously.]
"Connor, my boy. What are you doing?" He inquired merrily.
"What are you doing?" Connor spat. When he got no reply save a sharp smirk he resumed, "I'm proposing a deal."
"Great. And I'm bathing in laughableness."
"What?" He demanded.
"Well I don't want Gavin. He just stabbed me you idiot! What kind of hostage is that?"
Gavin frowned with despair. It was hopeless, now he was destined to die. His opportunity had washed past and there was no one to help him. That was his fault he supposed he had made sure there was no one. He took another look at Lynwood piercing smile and felt himself slowly releasing his hold over Gavin. He had already taken the knife off him and he had made sure to keep it concealed behind him. He considered himself extremely lucky for how it had played out so far; his chains had been just the lengths to scoop him under his arm and Gavin had been delivered to him. Just as he almost took his arm away something struck him. He knew how Gavin didn't trust anyone; he had picked up on that quite quickly. Now he held Gavin again and fumbled hastily through his pockets, searching desperately for his last hope. The look of hope across his face faded quickly until he felt his hand brush by something cold in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a gleaming set of keys.
Lynwood had already picked up on the plan of action and the man who had blown Gavin across the room jogged up to Connor to beat them back from him. The man stopped before Connor and looked down on him with a stern expression.
Connor suddenly realised what he had to do. He despised the fact that he had to do it, but he knew that he had no choice. The man prepped a punch but moving at insurmountable speed and accuracy Connor acted upon his only option. He swung his hand behind his back, gripped the knife and, in sudden, cruel jolt shoved his hand out in front of him as far as the chains would permit, releasing the knife at great precise force. The man had barely the time to flinch before a knife was imbedded through the centre of his forehead. Lynwood fell back in shock and rolled off the table, crashing awkwardly to the floor, barely avoiding a gush of blood that flooded the table. The man was propped against it with his head resting on its edge, staring silently at the ceiling. Connor's mind jumped into action and the adrenalin rushed through him. He forced himself to feel no remorse as he leaned backwards to get a good view and plugged the key into the tiny little hole below one of the chains. Keeping the corner of his eye on the other man who was lunging towards him, his arm drawn back. He twisted the key and suddenly all the cuffs cut open falling to the ground on the chains. He swung his arm up to meet the incoming punch just in time, then lunged forward with his other arm, coming over the man's shoulder and smacking straight into his jaw. The man screamed in pain as he slammed back against the table. Connor was impressed with himself for the sharp knock out punch. He rose powerfully to his feet, glaring past the two men's limp heads resting on the table. He saw Gavin scamper to his feet and scrambled to the secluded corner of the room to take shelter behind a large pot plant.
Connor smiled as he saw Lynwood finally emerge from behind the table. Connor detected the fear in his rise; Connor doubted he knew what to expect when he rose to his feet, certainly not his two men neatly lined up against the table and the boy he had been torturing to be waiting for him with a sweet smile of justice.
Lynwood shook with the sudden shock reaching frantically to the shelves behind him for support. He was breathing fearfully as Connor kept a hard smile. Lynwood cowered against the wall, gripping onto the shelves for comfort.
"Well, well." Connor laughed happily just as Lynwood had done. "What do we have here?"
"Please, I'm sorry Connor."
"What's the phrase? Yeah, true colours, looks like I'm seeing them. Not so commanding when you're victims have room to move are we?" He smiled with joy as he teased. Suddenly his fun cut to a sudden end as a sharp, harsh ringing pierced the air. It jarred his ears for a second before Connor adjusted to the phasing noise. It continued to ring incessantly as he frowned in wonder.
"What is this?"
Lynwood shook his head with irritation from the noise but hastily replied.
"IT"S THE FIRE DRILL!"
Connor smiled that Lynwood felt he had to shout to get through to him. He waited a while, just grinning at Lynwood cruelly.
"When does it stop?"
"WHAT?"
"WHEN DOES IT STOP?"
"SOON! PLEASE CONNOR, LET ME"
"Shut up!" With that Lynwood returned to an aggravated silence. Soon Connor's ears rang incessantly as the ringing ceased. He shook his head and adjusted to the new frequency. He grinned again and looked back over to Lynwood.
"Let's talk, well, you can talk. I'll listen and maybe kill." He said, calmly.
"Listen" His plea turned to a silent frown as the lights suddenly began to dim and a soft droning sound echoed through the air. Connor looked around the room and was quickly plunged into total darkness. He sighed and blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness. He swung around to face Gavin again.
"What the hell is going on?"
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Wesley frowned angrily at the page before him. He made a thinking noise with his mouth then looked over to his notepad, which he had kept well hidden from Lilah. He grabbed his pen and quickly scribbled a triangle on the page. He labelled each one. He labelled the point on the triangle, of which had the two longest adjoining sides, Ram. The other two he labelled Wolf and Hart. He glared at the drawing.
"This is big, really big." He told himself. "Wolf, Ram and Hart. This is it, it must be the apocalypse they've been talking about."
The door suddenly drifted open and Lilah strolled in breezily, two cups in her hand. She walked past Wesley and placed both cups on the desk, before planting herself beside them. "Well, I've got good, coffee news. How about you?"
He suddenly felt compelled to tell her at least a bit of the truth. "It involves Wolfram and Hart."
"Yeah I figured that, me being here and all. Tell me something revolutionary." Wesley bit his lip; he could give her revolutionary all right.
"There's nothing I'm sure of yet." He replied defensively.
"Right," she said, taking a sip of coffee, "It's taken you an awful lot of time to decide you're not sure of anything."
"I can't go any faster, it's not as if I'm" All of a sudden Wesley was silenced by a sharp ringing noise. He shouted and covered his ears. Lilah did the same, cringing at the sound.
"What? Is this a fire alarm?" Wesley inquired.
"Yes!" She replied loudly.
"So, what, do you think there's a fire we should be worried about?"
"I'm not sure, I'll ring Dylan." She picked up the phone and quickly punched in the number. She held the phone to her ear with an impatient sigh. Suddenly she ceased tapping irritably on the table as she heard Dylan's voice.
Wesley strained to listen to her words through the incessant ringing his ears fought through. "Yes, I know that. Look, yes, JUST TELL ME WHETHER THERE IS A FIRE OR NOT!" He heard her as she picked up her voice into an irate shout. Smiling at this he saw Lilah drop the phone back on the hook and shake her head towards him. "No fire." She stated bluntly. Wesley felt a grin of gleeful suspicion spread across his face. He had almost managed to revoke the look before Lilah caught on.
"What the hell are you smiling about?" she shouted through the noise. He felt another smile overcome him but this time he let it flood his face, a patronising smug grin. Lilah frowned reproachfully just as the alarm sudden cut from its mighty sound. The room fell completely silent so abruptly Wesley practically fell off his chair. He shook his head in an attempt to escape the vile ringing in his ears then looked around the room curiously.
"What" he started, finding himself cut off by an abrupt bang from the door hitting the wall. He forgot his sentence as his eyes fell upon the dark figure that towered before him. He heard Lilah curse and scamper off the table, standing limply to her feet. "Angel. What the hell are you"
"Doing? I don't know, let's just flip that around shall we. What are you doing? Why did you get Wesley? And how could you be so stupid to keep him in your office" His voice suddenly began to lose its enforcement and strength as his eyes scanned Wesley's unbound posture, "unchained, uncuffed, unrestrictOK, What is going on?"
Lilah picked up Angel's fallen storm and weaved the usual elegance back into her stride. She strode towards him, stopping by the desk to lean comfortably. "I've sought ofemployed him for the night. I needed" She and her confidence were cut off suddenly when Angel turned to Wesley.
"Wesley, what's going on?" Lilah's smile faded and her face drooped. Wesley opened his mouth to reply when suddenly and unexpectedly the thick light of the room faded all around him. He looked around frantically at both Lilah and Angel with his last light to find them doing the same. He frowned as the light eventually dropped to an impenetrable, consuming black. He stayed in his seat with the hope of remaining calm until his eyes readjusted to the darkness.
Angel stood unmoving in the shadows, his eyes scowled in deep thought. He concentrated hard, blinked a few times then opened his eyes to the darkness. He could see properly, thanks to is vamp-sight. It was a slight image of night vision technology and a clearer perspective of figure outlines. He saw Wesley looking around the room and Lilah breathing hard with a slight panic.
"Lilah." He spoke with a calm clarity that strangely reassured Lilah.
"Yes?"
"What's going on?"
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Fred was leaning back in her chair drowsily; her body limp and rested. Yet she kept her eyes slightly open, concentrating with all possible focus on the images that randomly flicked up on the Lapp on the desk in front of her. She was still in Angel's office and although it hadn't been long she felt sleepiness overcome her, it had been a fairly hectic day after all. Lorne had already shifted upstairs to catch some z's and Gunn made his escape a few minutes ago, muttering something about hanging around and insisting that she leave the computer. She hadn't, and, somehow she felt at odds as to why. She had been remarkably compelled to watch the computer, as though she had been tipped something was to happen.
More black and white images flicked across the screen. She had set the system to loop short intervals of currently recording surveillance systems. She felt her eyes flicker determined to close and be rested but she held them open. An unearthly gust of bitter cold swept across her. She shivered to the soul and sat up instantly, rubbing her arms and scanning the room with a frightful expression. Convinced it was nothing but a sudden bout of cold she slowly turned her head back to the computer screen, still with a cautious frown. The second she saw the screen her eyes widened and she began to breathe heavily. Her face became unnervingly hot with unbelievable fear as her heart pounded; her whole body was shivering, as there, in full size, right on the screen was an eye. It looked as though someone was looking right into the camera, but the focus should have been totally fuzzy, this closed eye had a cruel clarity. She took sudden raspy breaths and her hands began to sweat as they were tightly gripping the edge of her seat. She felt a sharp urge to run, to sprint out of the room and find Gunn's arms but she forced her eyes to the screen. Then she let out a horrific scream as the eye opened to reveal and hellishly crisp red eye, focused, she though, right into her soul. The screen flickered to a camera view of the Wolfram and Hart lobby. There was a menacing black figure standing in front of the doorway. It was in the shape of a person but barely as it was impossibly blurry and smeared. The blackness of the figure seemed to move excitedly. It's head turned to face the camera. She saw nothing still but blackness, for which her pumping heart was relieved. Then she shivered as she 'felt' it smile, the feeling came into her fearful mind and she felt its joy.
The screen flicked white and turned to black.