Chapter Six:
Venacklondages, Angel and Lindsey, and Spike's Confrontation
A spherical portal opened a hundred feet above the Pacific Ocean as Lorne shot Lindsey the first time. A second opened the second time Lindsey was dealt a bullet hole. Then, nearly a day later when Lindsey's heart stopped pumping and he technically died, a third portal opened. All three were connected to each other through a beam of energy which, when viewed from above or below, made the three into a triangle.
Bob nor Dick nor anyone else had heard about what was happening now before its occurrence, but shortly afterwards they found out. Same with Angel, Buffy, and the rest of the two groups. Not to mention the Initiative's army.
A fourth portal opened in the center of the triangle. This one wasn't spherical or visible. It was there though.
An arm extended out of that invisible portal that had two claws, each seven inches long. The arm itself was eight feet and lined up and down that muscular, green arm were spikes that were each four inches in length.
Followed by the arm, which appeared to be extending out of nowhere but thin air, was a shoulder that looked slightly human from a distance, but reptile up close because of the shiny scales.
Then a head came out of that nothingness. There was nothing on that green head other than mouths--three mouths--each on top of one another. There were no teeth in those mouths; just spike - riddled tentacles that sliced and diced whatever entered the mouth.
The head was a perfect sphere other than the one foot neck below it which was still half in and half out of the portal.
What came after the neck was the other arm, which was perfectly identical to the first arm which had come out of whatever world the creature was emerging from.
Then came the thing's chest. The chest was completely smooth and, unlike the arms, head, and neck, a bright blue. Ever seen those big - headed, stick - bodied aliens that are shown so much on TV and in movies? The mid - section of this being was just like the mid - section of those aliens. And the chest was only two feet deep, which was exceptionally small for such a large demon. The back had a line running down the middle of it that most humans would assume was the spine protruding outwards. It wasn't. In fact it was the only vein that connected the lower - body and the upper - body of the demon. And boy was it THICK! Three human hearts could've gone through that thing without causing a clog.
The plastic - like material that made up the rest of the thing's mid - section was strong enough to keep it from snapping like a twig under the weight of its arms and head and then some. And then a lot of some.
Under that was the thing's two, green legs. Each was a good ten feet long which, when added to the rest of the creatures' height, made the whole height twenty - five feet. The legs were equally as featureless as the creature's mid - section, but the feet. Oh, my the FEET. They had seven toes each. And each toe had a foot - long claw. Each claw was yellow and glass - like. The bone - structure was cartilaginous. For those who don't know, cartilage is the alternate to bone which makes up one's nose.
The cartilage made the scaly skin texture bumpy and uneven. But the feet were thin. Instead of being hulking giants like Godzilla's feet, they were thin dwarfs like human feet.
As soon as it was all out of the portal, the twenty - five foot giant plummeted to the sparkly water's surface, which was green as well.
When it hit the water it gave a grunt of displeasure at the sudden change of the surrounding environment's texture and then adjusted. Webs sprung up between its clawed fingers and toes to best suit the environment, and then it started swimming towards land. It could see perfectly. Unlike humans, it needed no eyes. Real sight needs none. And it needs no light either. This thing did not see by light reflection like pretty much every animal with eyesight does, it saw the actual object not tampered by light in its mind.
Then, another one of them began to emerge from the portal. This one was exactly the same. Just as the one after it was. And the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. The total tally of the creatures to come out of that portal was eleven. All of them just as willing and able to kill and plunder as the next.
All eleven of them were headed straight towards Los Angeles.
What were they called? Venacklondages, of course.
Meanwhile…
Angel sat in his tent, which had a sun proof outer layer so that he wouldn't burst into flames, and drank his cup of warm pig's blood. It had been a while since he had gotten so much time to himself. Especially during the day.
As he sat out of the sunlight Angel reflected upon his decision to join Wolfram and Hart. He wondered if it had been such a wise decision after all. What good had been accomplished? Well, other than getting a foot hold and being able to fight back at the apocalypse. Then there was the destruction of the members of the Black Thorn. Not to mention being able to save some people for a little bit before the whole attorney agency thing hit home and they had to focus on doing other things. So… it was a good decision in the long run, even if they had gone through hell before the good had come out of it.
One thing Angel did regret was the fact that he wouldn't see Lorne again. It wasn't Lorne's line of work anymore, he supposed. That didn't make the loss of the funny, chock full of personality empath any less overbearing, however. Then there was also not getting the chance to kill Lindsey himself. That was a bitch.
Spike was five tents over and probably drinking himself drunk as whatever would be a good noun for that simile. Angel found himself wondering why he was thinking about Spike at that moment. Little did he know that Spike was going through a powerful ordeal at that moment, or that Buffy and the others were also thinking about Spike.
Angel missed those tampered windows that blocked the sun's radiation in Wolfram and Hart. Those had been great.
He raised his glass and took another sip of his pig's blood. It wasn't the best pig's blood he'd ever had, but it was decent. Decent enough to drink and not wince anyway.
Suddenly Buffy's voice floated to his ears.
"Knock, knock Angel," she said. He could see her shadow cast on the tent. "Move to a shaded place because I'm coming in in five… four…"
Angel scurried behind the large bed that was put there for him and four seconds later Buffy opened the tent's flap and stepped in. He could smell and hear others come in, too. At least three or four. Then the flap was sealed back up and Angel emerged from behind the bed.
He had expected Buffy, Willow, and Xander. Who he hadn't expected was the man standing in front of the others. The man he had ordered assassinated.
Lindsey flashed him a smile that showed off his blood - caked teeth. "Hey Angel."
Angel stood there speechless for a moment or two. "I thought I killed you. Err… thought Lorne had killed you. But nonetheless…"
"Well, I guess it didn't work out like you planned," Lindsey replied and then his smile disintegrated as though he had just remembered he had been aligned with this vampire during the last few hours of his technical life.
"Did you kill him?" Angel couldn't help the anger that seeped into his voice. He was full of anger, confusion, and worry for Lorne's well - being.
"No. Just the opposite in fact. Touch me. I'm dead as a door knob."
Angel, a little uncomfortable at an initial interpretation of the suggestion to touch Lindsey, declined the offer.
"What happened?" he asked hesitantly.
"We don't know," Xander said. Then, when Angel and Lindsey looked over at him, he smiled uncomfortably and said: "Sorry. Go on."
"Just like the exceedingly annoying pirate over there just said, I have not the slightest of an idea what happened."
"No," Angel said. His irritation and impatience showing up. "I mean, what happened to Lorne?"
"Well, I went a little psycho after he shot me twice and ran after him with his own gun and emptied the clip into the air. He didn't chase me for some reason. I'm not sure where he is now. He probably got the hell out of Dodge."
Angel absorbed this information silently and then searched in his frustrated mind for something to say next.
"So… you're dead?" he asked.
"Stone cold dead. Not stiff as a board, though. Not a vampire. Not a zombie to the best of my knowledge. I'm just a walking dead body I suppose."
"There's gotta be an explanation for this," Angel continued. "These things don't just happen. You don't just see something like this and then ignore its pure necessity for a purpose like you guys seem to be doing. Is Wes--" Angel shut his eyes and then opened them again, a bit calmer now, and speaking slower. "I mean, is Giles working on it?"
Buffy noticed his slip up and was a bit slow to answer. "Oh! Umm… Y-Yeah. He's working on it. We went there first for a little while."
"Okay. That's good. Good call." Angel then looked around himself. Usually in this type of situation he'd sit down and start working on something at his desk. Now he had no desk and he had nothing to work on. All he had was to do was think things over between sunrise and sunset. "Umm… Is that all? Nothing more to report?"
Buffy looked around nervously. "Yeah. Other than the extermination is going really well that's it."
"Alright. Then go give Lindsey here to Giles for observation and examination."
"Yeah. Come on Lindsey."
Angel quickly ducked behind his bed as Buffy, without thinking, opened the flap of the tent.
Buffy subsequently hissed and apologized.
"It's alright. It's okay."
The four of them began to leave when Angel called Buffy back.
"What?" she asked.
"C-Could you get me some more blood?"
Buffy was silent for a second. "Yeah, sure. You're the boss."
"Thanks."
Then Buffy left and closed up the tent. Angel clambered back to the chair he had been sitting in earlier and sat down in it. Lindsey was dead, but he was still walking around and acting like Lindsey. How strange? Angel wondered if Lindsey was telling the truth about Lorne's condition, or if Lindsey was lying and Lorne was dead.
He hoped that Lorne was alright. He also hoped that Lindsey's undead form was for the better and not for the worse. Because if it was for the worse… well… they didn't even know what they were battling yet other than the Mochlackdangodenacks, and there had to be more than just those. If Lindsey is aligned with one of those other things, then things could turn out very bad.
Meanwhile…
Spike slammed the Jack Daniel's bottle down on the coffee table in front of his bed so hard that it shattered. Bits and pieces of glass slashed his hand wide open and spilled blood out onto the wooden table.
Spike didn't notice or care. He was pissed. He was fuming. He was positively pure - D angry. Red face and flaring eyes. Yes sir was he pissed.
Buffy hadn't come to talk to him again since their encounter at the medical tent. There she had told him that it could never work out again for them. That it was totally over. That he was out of her life. That he was an asshole for not telling her he was alive when he had been resurrected.
Wesley was dead. He had been buried the day before. Now he had to be trapped inside of a small, cramped tent instead of traipsing about the hallways of the Wolfram and Hart building. He had liked it there. Sure it had been evil, but he had enjoyed the ability to be out and about during the daylight's increasingly long life now that it was summer.
He hadn't been in contact with anyone other than the Initiative soldier who had shown him to his quarters for many hours.
He had been a little irritated before, but now that he was drunk he was fully pissed off.
"Like I ever wanted to get back with you, you slobbering little… little… LITTLE BITCH!" Spike stood up so quickly that his knees knocked the coffee table over. "Tell me off. Well… well… I'll s-show you who the bloody boss is, I'll tell you that. Tell me how it is. I just died saving your ass and THIS IS MY THANKS!? WHY AM I NOT SHOWERED IN SMILES AND 'THANK'S AND 'NICE JOB'S!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG!? BLOODY DAMNED HELL!"
Spike kicked over his shelf of liquor and alcohol. All of the bottles smashed when it hit the ground and the alcohol poured out onto the ground. Once again Spike did not notice or care.
He then walked over to a mirror and studied himself in it. He was overwhelmed in surrealism. Was this him? Was that unkempt, crazy bastard staring into his eyes him? He didn't think it could be. What had happened to him? What had he become? Then he started freaking out from looking at his reflection. It didn't feel like it was his reflection staring at him anymore. Then he realized the stupidity of his fear and smiled. He was too drunk to really notice that, considering he was a vampire, he should have no reflection.
"Ooh, ooh, you're gonna attack yourself! You're gonna attack yourself!"
Spike then laughed heartily. It stopped when his reflection thrust forward at him.
Spike leapt backwards and stumbled over the shelf he had kicked over. He fell to the ground and his bleeding hand slammed into the ground harder than the rest of him, successfully sending a great wave of pain through his body. He shouted out in pain.
He scurried to his feet and looked back at the mirror. He saw the back of his head in it.
"What the bloody hell?" Spike murmured. Then the back of his head began to turn. It began to turn around to look at him. "No," Spike said. "No. No, don't. Don't!"
It was still turning. "NO!"
When it had completed its turn, Spike found himself looking into the eyes of his first murder. It was Johanna Delacroix. A hooker that had possessed the misfortune of meeting him in an alley. He had killed her fast and hungrily.
"St-Stop it now!" Spike demanded. "Stop trying to intimidate me by showing me the people I've killed! Go down five tents and do that to Angel. He'll feel it. He'll feel it a whole hell of a lot more than me."
Then it did change form. It changed into Drusilla. When it spoke, however, it was the voice of Buffy.
"Hello Spike," Drusilla slash Buffy greeted him. "You've got a lot on your mind now don't you?"
"What d'ya want?" Spike asked. "First of all, actually, what the hell are you?"
Drusilla slash Buffy chuckled. "Well I can't think of a compelling lie to tell you. If I tell you I'm not a threat, you obviously won't believe that. If I tell you that you'll lose it certainly won't be menacing because you've heard it so many times before. If I tell you I have a monkey in my pants… that's just plain ridiculous."
Suddenly a monkey crawled up on Drusilla slash Buffy's shoulder. It didn't look real; it looked computer generated. "I suppose it's true enough though."
"What… are… you?" Spike repeated himself slowly with his speech being a bit more slurred this time around.
"Drunk are we? Well, that's fun.
"I need to tell you something, Spike. Here goes noth--"
Suddenly Drusilla slash Buffy looked at the monkey on her shoulder, who was now dancing like the computer generated baby on that TV show "Ally McBeal" and started laughing and clapping. "Isn't he rich?"
"What the hell kind of villain are you?" Spike asked in a high, slightly panicked voice. His cockeyed accent was slurring badly now.
"Villain?" Drusilla slash Buffy asked, sounding honestly confused. "I said that you wouldn't believe that I didn't pose a threat. I didn't say that I did. I'm just sort of sitting on a high stool and watching you guys duel it all out. It's quite fun, really. Really it is a lot of fun. You should try it some time. Namely when you die… again. I'm just an elderly being who doesn't like to show his true form. I'm just here to tell you that there will be many more dead bodies by the end of all of this unless you intervene with their deaths."
"Who?" Spike asked.
"Look at him dance. You can almost hear that song in the back ground. I love this monkey!"
"WHO THE HELL IS GOING TO DIE!?" Spike roared at Drusilla slash Buffy in the mirror. A couple miles away Drusilla suddenly jerked her head to the side as if bashed by a baseball bat and began thinking of Spike.
"You mean, unless you can stop it?"
"Yes you bloody bastard. And if you don't make that monkey stop dancing I'll kill it."
"Stop dancing Fido. Sit Fido, sit. Good boy. So, back to business. The first death you might want to stop is Lorne's."
"Lorne!?"
"Yep. You want to see how he'll die unless you can get to him first?"
"Why do you even need to ask me that? And that monkey's staring at me."
"Go away Fido. So… here's The Death of Your Comrades Act One. Enjoy."
Suddenly Spike was staring into a blank mirror. Drusilla slash Buffy was gone. He began to think it was just a hallucination, then a splitting head ache that would've made Angel spare a thought for Cordelia and Doyle bashed into his brain.
In the city's outskirts Connor pulled over his vehicle and considered what he was doing. Even he was thinking of Spike now. Even though Connor only knew Spike from a few minutes' worth of conversation he was still thinking of him.
"Aw, screw it," Connor muttered under his breath. "If the world's gonna end, where better to be than with Dad?"
Then he did an illegal U - turn and sped back towards Los Angeles. Luckily for him no cops had been around to pull him over and no civilians had been driving through that might accidentally slam into him.
And Spike screamed as Connor did this. He screamed out in pain he had never experienced before as his mind was thrown out of the vision like a sword out of its sheath.
"Oh good Christ," he gasped. "Oh God."
And then he puked. Moments later he fell unconscious to the ground and for a good five hours he laid there undisturbed to dream.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Hey, MorbidMan here. I hope you liked this chapter, too. I've gotten quite a few reviews for this story. Never dreamed I'd get so many. Thanks to you all. You compel me to write more.
There'll be some more chapters that set up even more storylines, then the storylines will start carrying themselves out. The apocalypse is going on, but it is relatively calm. It's the "deep breath before the plunge" to quote Gandalf from "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King". There'll be lots of action and some deaths later on. I'm debating on whether or not to kill any of the major characters. I'm not certain how you people will react to that.
Anyway, that's a good - bye until next chapter. See you later. And this is a thanks to izzygirlxp for reminding me that vampires don't have reflections. My bad. I changed it so that Spike is really drunk and doesn't realize that either.
"Comical villains are much better than villains that try to be menacing yet really aren't." - me
Venacklondages, Angel and Lindsey, and Spike's Confrontation
A spherical portal opened a hundred feet above the Pacific Ocean as Lorne shot Lindsey the first time. A second opened the second time Lindsey was dealt a bullet hole. Then, nearly a day later when Lindsey's heart stopped pumping and he technically died, a third portal opened. All three were connected to each other through a beam of energy which, when viewed from above or below, made the three into a triangle.
Bob nor Dick nor anyone else had heard about what was happening now before its occurrence, but shortly afterwards they found out. Same with Angel, Buffy, and the rest of the two groups. Not to mention the Initiative's army.
A fourth portal opened in the center of the triangle. This one wasn't spherical or visible. It was there though.
An arm extended out of that invisible portal that had two claws, each seven inches long. The arm itself was eight feet and lined up and down that muscular, green arm were spikes that were each four inches in length.
Followed by the arm, which appeared to be extending out of nowhere but thin air, was a shoulder that looked slightly human from a distance, but reptile up close because of the shiny scales.
Then a head came out of that nothingness. There was nothing on that green head other than mouths--three mouths--each on top of one another. There were no teeth in those mouths; just spike - riddled tentacles that sliced and diced whatever entered the mouth.
The head was a perfect sphere other than the one foot neck below it which was still half in and half out of the portal.
What came after the neck was the other arm, which was perfectly identical to the first arm which had come out of whatever world the creature was emerging from.
Then came the thing's chest. The chest was completely smooth and, unlike the arms, head, and neck, a bright blue. Ever seen those big - headed, stick - bodied aliens that are shown so much on TV and in movies? The mid - section of this being was just like the mid - section of those aliens. And the chest was only two feet deep, which was exceptionally small for such a large demon. The back had a line running down the middle of it that most humans would assume was the spine protruding outwards. It wasn't. In fact it was the only vein that connected the lower - body and the upper - body of the demon. And boy was it THICK! Three human hearts could've gone through that thing without causing a clog.
The plastic - like material that made up the rest of the thing's mid - section was strong enough to keep it from snapping like a twig under the weight of its arms and head and then some. And then a lot of some.
Under that was the thing's two, green legs. Each was a good ten feet long which, when added to the rest of the creatures' height, made the whole height twenty - five feet. The legs were equally as featureless as the creature's mid - section, but the feet. Oh, my the FEET. They had seven toes each. And each toe had a foot - long claw. Each claw was yellow and glass - like. The bone - structure was cartilaginous. For those who don't know, cartilage is the alternate to bone which makes up one's nose.
The cartilage made the scaly skin texture bumpy and uneven. But the feet were thin. Instead of being hulking giants like Godzilla's feet, they were thin dwarfs like human feet.
As soon as it was all out of the portal, the twenty - five foot giant plummeted to the sparkly water's surface, which was green as well.
When it hit the water it gave a grunt of displeasure at the sudden change of the surrounding environment's texture and then adjusted. Webs sprung up between its clawed fingers and toes to best suit the environment, and then it started swimming towards land. It could see perfectly. Unlike humans, it needed no eyes. Real sight needs none. And it needs no light either. This thing did not see by light reflection like pretty much every animal with eyesight does, it saw the actual object not tampered by light in its mind.
Then, another one of them began to emerge from the portal. This one was exactly the same. Just as the one after it was. And the one after that. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. The total tally of the creatures to come out of that portal was eleven. All of them just as willing and able to kill and plunder as the next.
All eleven of them were headed straight towards Los Angeles.
What were they called? Venacklondages, of course.
Meanwhile…
Angel sat in his tent, which had a sun proof outer layer so that he wouldn't burst into flames, and drank his cup of warm pig's blood. It had been a while since he had gotten so much time to himself. Especially during the day.
As he sat out of the sunlight Angel reflected upon his decision to join Wolfram and Hart. He wondered if it had been such a wise decision after all. What good had been accomplished? Well, other than getting a foot hold and being able to fight back at the apocalypse. Then there was the destruction of the members of the Black Thorn. Not to mention being able to save some people for a little bit before the whole attorney agency thing hit home and they had to focus on doing other things. So… it was a good decision in the long run, even if they had gone through hell before the good had come out of it.
One thing Angel did regret was the fact that he wouldn't see Lorne again. It wasn't Lorne's line of work anymore, he supposed. That didn't make the loss of the funny, chock full of personality empath any less overbearing, however. Then there was also not getting the chance to kill Lindsey himself. That was a bitch.
Spike was five tents over and probably drinking himself drunk as whatever would be a good noun for that simile. Angel found himself wondering why he was thinking about Spike at that moment. Little did he know that Spike was going through a powerful ordeal at that moment, or that Buffy and the others were also thinking about Spike.
Angel missed those tampered windows that blocked the sun's radiation in Wolfram and Hart. Those had been great.
He raised his glass and took another sip of his pig's blood. It wasn't the best pig's blood he'd ever had, but it was decent. Decent enough to drink and not wince anyway.
Suddenly Buffy's voice floated to his ears.
"Knock, knock Angel," she said. He could see her shadow cast on the tent. "Move to a shaded place because I'm coming in in five… four…"
Angel scurried behind the large bed that was put there for him and four seconds later Buffy opened the tent's flap and stepped in. He could smell and hear others come in, too. At least three or four. Then the flap was sealed back up and Angel emerged from behind the bed.
He had expected Buffy, Willow, and Xander. Who he hadn't expected was the man standing in front of the others. The man he had ordered assassinated.
Lindsey flashed him a smile that showed off his blood - caked teeth. "Hey Angel."
Angel stood there speechless for a moment or two. "I thought I killed you. Err… thought Lorne had killed you. But nonetheless…"
"Well, I guess it didn't work out like you planned," Lindsey replied and then his smile disintegrated as though he had just remembered he had been aligned with this vampire during the last few hours of his technical life.
"Did you kill him?" Angel couldn't help the anger that seeped into his voice. He was full of anger, confusion, and worry for Lorne's well - being.
"No. Just the opposite in fact. Touch me. I'm dead as a door knob."
Angel, a little uncomfortable at an initial interpretation of the suggestion to touch Lindsey, declined the offer.
"What happened?" he asked hesitantly.
"We don't know," Xander said. Then, when Angel and Lindsey looked over at him, he smiled uncomfortably and said: "Sorry. Go on."
"Just like the exceedingly annoying pirate over there just said, I have not the slightest of an idea what happened."
"No," Angel said. His irritation and impatience showing up. "I mean, what happened to Lorne?"
"Well, I went a little psycho after he shot me twice and ran after him with his own gun and emptied the clip into the air. He didn't chase me for some reason. I'm not sure where he is now. He probably got the hell out of Dodge."
Angel absorbed this information silently and then searched in his frustrated mind for something to say next.
"So… you're dead?" he asked.
"Stone cold dead. Not stiff as a board, though. Not a vampire. Not a zombie to the best of my knowledge. I'm just a walking dead body I suppose."
"There's gotta be an explanation for this," Angel continued. "These things don't just happen. You don't just see something like this and then ignore its pure necessity for a purpose like you guys seem to be doing. Is Wes--" Angel shut his eyes and then opened them again, a bit calmer now, and speaking slower. "I mean, is Giles working on it?"
Buffy noticed his slip up and was a bit slow to answer. "Oh! Umm… Y-Yeah. He's working on it. We went there first for a little while."
"Okay. That's good. Good call." Angel then looked around himself. Usually in this type of situation he'd sit down and start working on something at his desk. Now he had no desk and he had nothing to work on. All he had was to do was think things over between sunrise and sunset. "Umm… Is that all? Nothing more to report?"
Buffy looked around nervously. "Yeah. Other than the extermination is going really well that's it."
"Alright. Then go give Lindsey here to Giles for observation and examination."
"Yeah. Come on Lindsey."
Angel quickly ducked behind his bed as Buffy, without thinking, opened the flap of the tent.
Buffy subsequently hissed and apologized.
"It's alright. It's okay."
The four of them began to leave when Angel called Buffy back.
"What?" she asked.
"C-Could you get me some more blood?"
Buffy was silent for a second. "Yeah, sure. You're the boss."
"Thanks."
Then Buffy left and closed up the tent. Angel clambered back to the chair he had been sitting in earlier and sat down in it. Lindsey was dead, but he was still walking around and acting like Lindsey. How strange? Angel wondered if Lindsey was telling the truth about Lorne's condition, or if Lindsey was lying and Lorne was dead.
He hoped that Lorne was alright. He also hoped that Lindsey's undead form was for the better and not for the worse. Because if it was for the worse… well… they didn't even know what they were battling yet other than the Mochlackdangodenacks, and there had to be more than just those. If Lindsey is aligned with one of those other things, then things could turn out very bad.
Meanwhile…
Spike slammed the Jack Daniel's bottle down on the coffee table in front of his bed so hard that it shattered. Bits and pieces of glass slashed his hand wide open and spilled blood out onto the wooden table.
Spike didn't notice or care. He was pissed. He was fuming. He was positively pure - D angry. Red face and flaring eyes. Yes sir was he pissed.
Buffy hadn't come to talk to him again since their encounter at the medical tent. There she had told him that it could never work out again for them. That it was totally over. That he was out of her life. That he was an asshole for not telling her he was alive when he had been resurrected.
Wesley was dead. He had been buried the day before. Now he had to be trapped inside of a small, cramped tent instead of traipsing about the hallways of the Wolfram and Hart building. He had liked it there. Sure it had been evil, but he had enjoyed the ability to be out and about during the daylight's increasingly long life now that it was summer.
He hadn't been in contact with anyone other than the Initiative soldier who had shown him to his quarters for many hours.
He had been a little irritated before, but now that he was drunk he was fully pissed off.
"Like I ever wanted to get back with you, you slobbering little… little… LITTLE BITCH!" Spike stood up so quickly that his knees knocked the coffee table over. "Tell me off. Well… well… I'll s-show you who the bloody boss is, I'll tell you that. Tell me how it is. I just died saving your ass and THIS IS MY THANKS!? WHY AM I NOT SHOWERED IN SMILES AND 'THANK'S AND 'NICE JOB'S!? WHAT DID I DO WRONG!? BLOODY DAMNED HELL!"
Spike kicked over his shelf of liquor and alcohol. All of the bottles smashed when it hit the ground and the alcohol poured out onto the ground. Once again Spike did not notice or care.
He then walked over to a mirror and studied himself in it. He was overwhelmed in surrealism. Was this him? Was that unkempt, crazy bastard staring into his eyes him? He didn't think it could be. What had happened to him? What had he become? Then he started freaking out from looking at his reflection. It didn't feel like it was his reflection staring at him anymore. Then he realized the stupidity of his fear and smiled. He was too drunk to really notice that, considering he was a vampire, he should have no reflection.
"Ooh, ooh, you're gonna attack yourself! You're gonna attack yourself!"
Spike then laughed heartily. It stopped when his reflection thrust forward at him.
Spike leapt backwards and stumbled over the shelf he had kicked over. He fell to the ground and his bleeding hand slammed into the ground harder than the rest of him, successfully sending a great wave of pain through his body. He shouted out in pain.
He scurried to his feet and looked back at the mirror. He saw the back of his head in it.
"What the bloody hell?" Spike murmured. Then the back of his head began to turn. It began to turn around to look at him. "No," Spike said. "No. No, don't. Don't!"
It was still turning. "NO!"
When it had completed its turn, Spike found himself looking into the eyes of his first murder. It was Johanna Delacroix. A hooker that had possessed the misfortune of meeting him in an alley. He had killed her fast and hungrily.
"St-Stop it now!" Spike demanded. "Stop trying to intimidate me by showing me the people I've killed! Go down five tents and do that to Angel. He'll feel it. He'll feel it a whole hell of a lot more than me."
Then it did change form. It changed into Drusilla. When it spoke, however, it was the voice of Buffy.
"Hello Spike," Drusilla slash Buffy greeted him. "You've got a lot on your mind now don't you?"
"What d'ya want?" Spike asked. "First of all, actually, what the hell are you?"
Drusilla slash Buffy chuckled. "Well I can't think of a compelling lie to tell you. If I tell you I'm not a threat, you obviously won't believe that. If I tell you that you'll lose it certainly won't be menacing because you've heard it so many times before. If I tell you I have a monkey in my pants… that's just plain ridiculous."
Suddenly a monkey crawled up on Drusilla slash Buffy's shoulder. It didn't look real; it looked computer generated. "I suppose it's true enough though."
"What… are… you?" Spike repeated himself slowly with his speech being a bit more slurred this time around.
"Drunk are we? Well, that's fun.
"I need to tell you something, Spike. Here goes noth--"
Suddenly Drusilla slash Buffy looked at the monkey on her shoulder, who was now dancing like the computer generated baby on that TV show "Ally McBeal" and started laughing and clapping. "Isn't he rich?"
"What the hell kind of villain are you?" Spike asked in a high, slightly panicked voice. His cockeyed accent was slurring badly now.
"Villain?" Drusilla slash Buffy asked, sounding honestly confused. "I said that you wouldn't believe that I didn't pose a threat. I didn't say that I did. I'm just sort of sitting on a high stool and watching you guys duel it all out. It's quite fun, really. Really it is a lot of fun. You should try it some time. Namely when you die… again. I'm just an elderly being who doesn't like to show his true form. I'm just here to tell you that there will be many more dead bodies by the end of all of this unless you intervene with their deaths."
"Who?" Spike asked.
"Look at him dance. You can almost hear that song in the back ground. I love this monkey!"
"WHO THE HELL IS GOING TO DIE!?" Spike roared at Drusilla slash Buffy in the mirror. A couple miles away Drusilla suddenly jerked her head to the side as if bashed by a baseball bat and began thinking of Spike.
"You mean, unless you can stop it?"
"Yes you bloody bastard. And if you don't make that monkey stop dancing I'll kill it."
"Stop dancing Fido. Sit Fido, sit. Good boy. So, back to business. The first death you might want to stop is Lorne's."
"Lorne!?"
"Yep. You want to see how he'll die unless you can get to him first?"
"Why do you even need to ask me that? And that monkey's staring at me."
"Go away Fido. So… here's The Death of Your Comrades Act One. Enjoy."
Suddenly Spike was staring into a blank mirror. Drusilla slash Buffy was gone. He began to think it was just a hallucination, then a splitting head ache that would've made Angel spare a thought for Cordelia and Doyle bashed into his brain.
In the city's outskirts Connor pulled over his vehicle and considered what he was doing. Even he was thinking of Spike now. Even though Connor only knew Spike from a few minutes' worth of conversation he was still thinking of him.
"Aw, screw it," Connor muttered under his breath. "If the world's gonna end, where better to be than with Dad?"
Then he did an illegal U - turn and sped back towards Los Angeles. Luckily for him no cops had been around to pull him over and no civilians had been driving through that might accidentally slam into him.
And Spike screamed as Connor did this. He screamed out in pain he had never experienced before as his mind was thrown out of the vision like a sword out of its sheath.
"Oh good Christ," he gasped. "Oh God."
And then he puked. Moments later he fell unconscious to the ground and for a good five hours he laid there undisturbed to dream.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Hey, MorbidMan here. I hope you liked this chapter, too. I've gotten quite a few reviews for this story. Never dreamed I'd get so many. Thanks to you all. You compel me to write more.
There'll be some more chapters that set up even more storylines, then the storylines will start carrying themselves out. The apocalypse is going on, but it is relatively calm. It's the "deep breath before the plunge" to quote Gandalf from "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King". There'll be lots of action and some deaths later on. I'm debating on whether or not to kill any of the major characters. I'm not certain how you people will react to that.
Anyway, that's a good - bye until next chapter. See you later. And this is a thanks to izzygirlxp for reminding me that vampires don't have reflections. My bad. I changed it so that Spike is really drunk and doesn't realize that either.
"Comical villains are much better than villains that try to be menacing yet really aren't." - me