Hey guys thought it would be fun to write a story about a soon to be evil
Watcher's council to mold evil Slayers. Who says evil women can't look good
while kicking ass? Hope to get some feedback cuz I'm not sure if I should
write some more chapters soo please review and I hope u enjoy. And by the
way I don't own any of these people.
Historical note. Post Chosen.
The dank night air of London poured into the tiny cracks. In the center of the oubliette housed a figure. He was squeezed into the tiny prison dug out of the floor of the dungeon. His blue eyes once alight with knowledge and insight now dulled in the ever-present gloom. He was a strong man, trained like the men and women before him to be studious and apropos. But Anthony was not like his formers, starched shirts stiff upper lips. He had a childlike side, which was probably the reason Quinton Travers assigned him the job of housing the legacy stone.
"So Mr. Easten are you going to give us what we want or do we have to make this fun?" The Slayer grinned, her inexpensive yet stylish boots clacking against the grate above his head.
"Bring him up."
Shaking and extremely thin from weeks of imprisonment Anthony Easten faced his capture, the Slayer Buffy Anne Summers.
"Better? You know you watcher's are all the same? You just sit there while we fight. You watch we slay. Do you know how many slayers have died? How many no longer live? Now let's count how many Watcher's there are. Ohh wait." a grinned crept across her face. "That's right there aren't any left. Well except a few... So maybe you should activate the stone and you can go back to your book reading ancient Sumarian talking ways."
"No. You're lying! You're not who you seem! You're the First evil and I am not going to help you!" Anthony knew that the stone could only be activated if the Council was in dire straights. The immolation of all but a handful of watcher's coupled with the increased activity of the First Evil certainly was not a good portent.
The Slayer raised her eyebrow. The little emaciated man had some fight in him still. But she could tell he was going to crack. Soon.
"Alright. Let's put on a little show." Buffy lifts her arms and three spotlights go on. The far left illuminating a demon. Eyes covered its body. Puss oozed over it's four limbs. A gaping mouth rimmed with teeth was howling at the center ring. In the center stood a girl. Barely past sixteen, she looked afraid. Her fear fed the demon. And lastly Anthony was in the last circle. He strained with every ounce of strength he had against his chains.
"We'll let you go. And see if you can get to her before he does. Let them lose."
Anthony sprinted to the girl. His arms finally freed became a desperate lunge for the innocent child.
CRACK! The demon won.
"NO!!" Agony coursed through his body. The pain of being impotent in the face of evil seared his soul.
Buffy shimmered and became the tall deceased slayer Kendra.
"Call me now for your free beating." Mimicking a really hackneyed Jamaican accent.
"Sir?" A British girl addressed him. "This is where the Turok-Han bit me." Pointing excitedly to the bloody gash that was her neck.
"STOP IT! NOW!"
"Daddy? Why are you crying daddy?" A five year old looked at his father sprawled on the floor. His blue eyes confused and perplexed.
"Aden? Aden! Thank God I thought you died in the explosion." Anthony stood to embrace his son. But just as his arms were about to connect into a loving embrace the five year old winked and became an unrecognizable charred mass of hair and bone.
"I did." It whispered.
Anthony Easten the collected and thoughtful father and husband finally cracked.
"I hope these girls kick your ass! They will win and when they do I hope I'm on the ghost roads holding my family and watching you burn in HELL!!!!! Beat in me my life! Blood that flows through my veins. Inoptera um numeseptero. Solidify and be whole. Bring back the old and fill the new. Commence the beginning while I sanctify my end." To finish the incantation, he placed his hand onto his chest. It passed through his sternum. "Legacy stone I hold you. Birth those that shall watch the Slayer and guide her. Awaken! Children of the Watcher's be full of our knowledge and wisdom!"
A beam of red light surged out of the sky and was refracted by the jewel that had risen to the center of his chest.
"Bringers." The First decreed. "When the light goes out. Kill him." Shimmering into Mayor Wilkins.
"Every girl needs a father figure. That's what I always say. And now with this new bunch of Watcher's that I can control. Gee golly it's going to be fun. And she'd better be careful, she isn't going to get all of these girls. I may have lost Faith but there will be plenty more where she came from. I'll teach them the joy of good dental hygiene, playing mini golf, and slicing open a human skull.sniff sniff. Alright some of you Harbringers need a bath."
Historical note. Post Chosen.
The dank night air of London poured into the tiny cracks. In the center of the oubliette housed a figure. He was squeezed into the tiny prison dug out of the floor of the dungeon. His blue eyes once alight with knowledge and insight now dulled in the ever-present gloom. He was a strong man, trained like the men and women before him to be studious and apropos. But Anthony was not like his formers, starched shirts stiff upper lips. He had a childlike side, which was probably the reason Quinton Travers assigned him the job of housing the legacy stone.
"So Mr. Easten are you going to give us what we want or do we have to make this fun?" The Slayer grinned, her inexpensive yet stylish boots clacking against the grate above his head.
"Bring him up."
Shaking and extremely thin from weeks of imprisonment Anthony Easten faced his capture, the Slayer Buffy Anne Summers.
"Better? You know you watcher's are all the same? You just sit there while we fight. You watch we slay. Do you know how many slayers have died? How many no longer live? Now let's count how many Watcher's there are. Ohh wait." a grinned crept across her face. "That's right there aren't any left. Well except a few... So maybe you should activate the stone and you can go back to your book reading ancient Sumarian talking ways."
"No. You're lying! You're not who you seem! You're the First evil and I am not going to help you!" Anthony knew that the stone could only be activated if the Council was in dire straights. The immolation of all but a handful of watcher's coupled with the increased activity of the First Evil certainly was not a good portent.
The Slayer raised her eyebrow. The little emaciated man had some fight in him still. But she could tell he was going to crack. Soon.
"Alright. Let's put on a little show." Buffy lifts her arms and three spotlights go on. The far left illuminating a demon. Eyes covered its body. Puss oozed over it's four limbs. A gaping mouth rimmed with teeth was howling at the center ring. In the center stood a girl. Barely past sixteen, she looked afraid. Her fear fed the demon. And lastly Anthony was in the last circle. He strained with every ounce of strength he had against his chains.
"We'll let you go. And see if you can get to her before he does. Let them lose."
Anthony sprinted to the girl. His arms finally freed became a desperate lunge for the innocent child.
CRACK! The demon won.
"NO!!" Agony coursed through his body. The pain of being impotent in the face of evil seared his soul.
Buffy shimmered and became the tall deceased slayer Kendra.
"Call me now for your free beating." Mimicking a really hackneyed Jamaican accent.
"Sir?" A British girl addressed him. "This is where the Turok-Han bit me." Pointing excitedly to the bloody gash that was her neck.
"STOP IT! NOW!"
"Daddy? Why are you crying daddy?" A five year old looked at his father sprawled on the floor. His blue eyes confused and perplexed.
"Aden? Aden! Thank God I thought you died in the explosion." Anthony stood to embrace his son. But just as his arms were about to connect into a loving embrace the five year old winked and became an unrecognizable charred mass of hair and bone.
"I did." It whispered.
Anthony Easten the collected and thoughtful father and husband finally cracked.
"I hope these girls kick your ass! They will win and when they do I hope I'm on the ghost roads holding my family and watching you burn in HELL!!!!! Beat in me my life! Blood that flows through my veins. Inoptera um numeseptero. Solidify and be whole. Bring back the old and fill the new. Commence the beginning while I sanctify my end." To finish the incantation, he placed his hand onto his chest. It passed through his sternum. "Legacy stone I hold you. Birth those that shall watch the Slayer and guide her. Awaken! Children of the Watcher's be full of our knowledge and wisdom!"
A beam of red light surged out of the sky and was refracted by the jewel that had risen to the center of his chest.
"Bringers." The First decreed. "When the light goes out. Kill him." Shimmering into Mayor Wilkins.
"Every girl needs a father figure. That's what I always say. And now with this new bunch of Watcher's that I can control. Gee golly it's going to be fun. And she'd better be careful, she isn't going to get all of these girls. I may have lost Faith but there will be plenty more where she came from. I'll teach them the joy of good dental hygiene, playing mini golf, and slicing open a human skull.sniff sniff. Alright some of you Harbringers need a bath."