Well here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it.
(Rumble in Sunnydale.)
(Chatla opens a can of whopass she is not prepared for.)
Cathla was just finishing drawing the last lines of a protection pentagram on the floor. Then she would be ready. Ready to reign over a fear-ridden world.
She used a bottle of Virgin's blood for a second smaller, but more powerful protection-circle. In the large pentagram stood every item she needed to open the Hellmouth. The second was for herself if everything, against all odds, should go wrong.
Not that she really feared that something would go wrong. But neither did The Master some seventy years ago. Yet, he got trapped in his underground cave. And when he finally escaped, that little twit – the Slayer – killed him. So it was best to be prepared for every contingency.
"So! Are you ready to unleash hell on earth," she asked. And turned around to her wonderfully vicious vampiric lover.
"Yes Cath. Everything is ready. Our army is standing ready to step in if necessary," Spike said. And tried to be as enthusiastic as he sounded.
But all he felt was an all consuming rage against the Slayer and her bloody friends. All he did was pointing towards that one goal, to kill the Slayer and her friends, to get the ultimate revenge for them killing his beloved Drucilla. And then when she least of all expected it, he would kill that bloody manipulating bitch, Cathla. She thought she had him wrapped around her little finger.
Well she was inn for a surprise. Nobody! Nobody used or manipulated Spike!!!
"Good work Spike," she said as she started drawing power directly from the Hellmouth. She lifted her hands and was about to start chanting, when her back suddenly stiffened. She turned around and looked up at the stairs.
Down came a dark-haired man clad in what she would call a black combat suit. Around his waist was a belt with wooden stakes, and all over his body a small armoury of bladed weapons was strapped. The biggest being two black Katanas strapped to his back. But somehow she doubted he needed that many weapons, as he seemed to be a weapon himself. She could actually feel his power. This man was dangerous.
She glanced over to Spike, and saw him totally awe-stricken. And she also saw something she never had expected to se. Not in Spike. Not in William the Bloody, one of the most evil and vicious, and not to mention fearless vampires in the world. What she saw was fear. Pure unadulterated fear.
"Who are you?" she said to the newcomer. He stood before her. Feet steadily planted on the floor, radiating an unnerving self-esteem.
"I am Angelus ORourke of the clan Rialle. And I have returned from hell in order to help stop your heinous acts."
A moment she was dumbstruck. Standing right before her, was perhaps the most legendary of the newer vampires in the world. Barely 250 years old, he already had a reputation that far preceded those of vampires that were three and maybe four times older. The legendary Scourge of Europe. But she also knew that this was the souled version of him. And she could clearly sense that the stories told about him were wrong on one account. The souled vampire wasn't less powerful than the soulless.
In fact she had never sensed a stronger vampire. Not even the Master, and he was well over two thousand years, before the Slayer that came back from death, killed him. Slightly nervous she realised that before her stood a Master Vampire, something that should be impossible. Vampires didn't reach that kind of power until they at least were 500 years. And on his chest she saw one of the most powerful protection amulets in the world, a tear of Hecate.
'Well,' she thought. 'This could be interesting after all.' She let out a maniacal laughter.
"You don't seriously think that you can defeat me? A Warrior Sorceress of the First Circle of Hell."
"No," he stated calmly. "But I damned well can try," he said and grinned viciously. "And besides, you didn't really think I was stupid enough to come alone when a whole army of vampires are waiting for their cue to attack. Nope, I brought the cavalry." He let out a sharp whistle. And down they came one by one.
First came a small redhead that would have seemed fragile, if not for the sparks of witch-fire that ran from her fingertips. She stopped at Angelus' left side. And her eyes had the expression of a seasoned warrior checking out her enemy.
"I am Willow Rosenburg," she stated. "And I have come here today to stop you from creating the twin Hellmouth."
Chatla could sense a raw magical power in her that was impressive. But she was obviously untrained. With the right training though, she could become a powerful sorceress. Cathla's eyes went back to the stairs.
Coming down was a small blonde, she recognised as the Slayer, the Slayer that killed the Master. And never in her seven hundred and fifty years of living, had she seen a more powerful Slayer. She quite possibly could be the strongest Slayer in history. She stopped at Angel's right side.
"I am Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. Slaying is my duty. And you are my victim," she stated, as she grabbed the vampire's hand.
The sorceress could feel the impossible connection of love between vampire and Slayer. And with a start she realised who they were, the two great ones that the prophecy spoke of, the two that would be the start of the end for the vampires on earth. Shit!!!
What the hell! Down the stairs came a short man with spiky green hair. He stopped by the witch-apprentice's right side, and she could smell the wolf inside him. As he stood there he slowly and with full control changed into part werewolf mode. Just enough, so that he got the power and speed of a werewolf, but still had human shape underneath the fur.
"I am Daniel Ozbourne. And I will rip out your spine and step on it," he stated with a cold as ice glare.
Shit!!! Only ancient Indian shamans had the power of controlled shape shifting. Then she sensed the spell, and realised that it was the red-haired one that had given him that ability. 'How in the world could these young people possess such powers?' she marvelled.
But it wasn't over yet. Down came a young couple. Both dark-haired. They took place on each their side of their friends. Well these two fortunately hadn't any special powers. Except, they both, as well as the others, bore a Tear of Hecate around their neck. Like the others, they were clad in a black combat suit, and were armed literally to their teeth. And their body-language told that they were experienced warriors.
"I am Cordelia Chase," the woman said.
"And I am Alexander Lavelle Harris," The man said.
"And we are here to stop you at any cost."
Suddenly Cathla's head jerked up as two more people came down. A man in his late forties, and a beautiful woman in her late twenties, stepped up to the sides of their friends.
"I am Rupert Giles, the watcher of the best Slayer of all times. I am the Ripper, former Black mage and follower of Eghyon. I am here to stop you wretched woman."
The young woman stepped forth. "I am your death," she simply stated.
Goddess Hecate!! Who were these people? This Ripper person suddenly had the cold merciless eyes of a killer. And she sensed a vast knowledge in the Black arts. As well as White magic.
But the woman, that's where the most power came from. She was like a living breathing creature of pure magic power. Never had she sensed anything like it. Not since she killed her mentor five hundred years ago. She was truly a worthy opponent. This would certainly be more entertaining than she had expected. Far too long a-time had gone by since somebody gave her a decent fight. She reached inside to the blackness of her heart. And started to draw power directly from the Hellmouth on which the town was built upon.
"Puny mortals," she said, as her eyes started to glow like torches from the pits of hell. "You don't have a chance," she said as she stepped inside the smallest protection pentagram. Then she lifted two fingers to her mouth and released a sharp whistle. Suddenly the room was filled with hordes of Spike's minions. Instantly the Scooby-gang reacted like one being, jumping into the fight with death defiance. Fighting like a well-oiled machine.
Cordelia and Xander were fighting back to back, both of them with a stake in one hand and a short sword in the other.
"God damit, Xander! Watch where you are pointing that thing," Cordelia shouted as Xander's sword shot past her, the air pressure messing up her hair. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to make my hair this way? You just ruined well-past half an hour's work!"
But as the dust of a vampire fell over her, Xander turned around to her. "Oh shut up, you bloody stuck up bitch. I just saved your life, and all you can do is complain about your hair? I am sooo glad you're not my girlfriend anymore."
"Well duh, you weren't exactly dream-boy yourself," she retaliated as she tossed Xander away from a vicious Bowie Knife. With a quick thrust she staked the vampire, while she slapped Xander over the head.
"No matter what I did, it was always Buffy. Buffy is so though. Buffy is so brave. Buffy is sooo beautiful. And if you weren't drooling over Buffy, you were cheating on me with Willow. How do you think that felt? No, you don't know. You never thought about that did you?!" With the power of rage, she forced the stake through the heart of a vampire and decapitated another one before she viciously attacked a third one.
Xander didn't answer for a while. He was engaged in a furious hand-to-hand combat with a large bulky vampire. As he finally beheaded it, he turned around to her again. In a hurt tone, he spoke.
"For your information, I only cheated on you once. And that was just a fluke. And neither Willow nor me felt like repeating it. And for the longest time I tried to make up for it. To make amends. But you just dwelled in your self-pity, and didn't even notice it. Believe it or not, I loved you. And Willow was head over heels in love with Oz."
"And about your insane jealousy over Buffy. It was so not called for. Yeah. I got the hots for her, all right. I had the hots for her the same way you had the hots for Brad Pit. I loved the sight of her. Like if I looked at a beautiful painting. The person Buffy, I stopped loving a long time before that. But you were too busy being jealous to notice that."
The silence between them was tremendous, and Cordelia attacked the vampires, like if driving out her own inner demons. Chop, thrust, thrust, chop, duck, chop, chop, sweep, thrust.
"Well I guess I owe you an apology," she then said. "I was pretty rotten against you, wasn't I?"
"Yep!" He said. And grabbed her shoulder, leaped over her head and staked a vampire while braking the neck on another one witch quickly became dust under Cordy's stake. Then came the words he never had expected to hear from her. Not from the Ice Queen.
"I'm sorry," she said then. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"Well, so am I," he said. "I mean I'm sorry that I hurt you. And if it hadn't been for Willow and me, you probably never would have ended in hospital, fighting for your life."
"No, Xander. It was neither your nor Willows fault that I fell through that rotten wood and got impaled. It was just one of fates cruel twists and turns. . . So what do you say? Friends?"
"Yeah, friends," he said and smiled at her for the first time in two years.
"Well. Its good to have my best bud back," she said, as he suddenly threw her away from a particularly nasty vampire with even more weapons than them. For a moment they looked at each other. Then they joined forces and attacked.
Willow was fighting with all her might. Her sword was sparkling with witch-fire. And every vampire that came near it, exploded into dust. Using her small body, and her speed and flexibility to her advantage she fought like she never had done before.
While chanting with a dooming voice she went through the vampires like a tornado of steel and wood. A while ago she had been separated from Oz, and her heart was heavy with worry for him, even though she knew that he probably managed just as well as her self. Maybe better.
Suddenly her luck was out and she found herself forced up against the wall by a vampire that probably weighed at least three times as much as her.
"Ah, a witch," he said. "It has been a while since I tasted the blood of a witch. It will be a pleasure." He started to lower his teeth to her throat ignoring her attempts to get free.
Helpless she closed her eyes and waited for death. Suddenly she heard a scream and felt dust against her face. Still scared she stood there. Eyes closed shut. "Relax Willow your are saved," she heard Edith's voice. She opened her eyes and nearly screamed when she saw the vampire visage she knew so well.
"Drusilla? But aren't you dust?" Then she saw the Tear of Hecate and the truth dawned for her, at the same moment she sensed Drusilla's soul.
"You're Edith? How… how is this possible?!" she asked.
A grief-stricken expression fell over the ex-vampires face. "Buffys blood," she simply stated and dived into the crowd of vampires leaving a trace of dust behind. For a few moments Willow was breathless. Then her grip on the sword fastened, and she followed in the trace of her former enemy.
"Aaaaaaoooooohhh!!" Oz fought viciously against the vampires. He had been forced away from Willow, and was worried sick for her.
"Arhghh!" He growled as a searing pain went through his left thigh. He looked down and saw a crossbow bolt protruding from it, blood pumping from the wound at a dangerous rate. And as the pain overwhelmed him, his feet buckled under him. He fell to the floor as seemingly every vampire in sight attacked. He rose to his knees facing his attackers, with his wolf-eyes bright yellow by rage.
"Aooooohhhahhhhhoooooo!!!" He yelled as he raised his sword, determined to die fighting. But just as they attacked, he witnessed something spectacular. Seemingly out of nowhere, Buffy came charging. And with down right inhuman speed she killed his attackers. Then she simply threw him over her shoulder and started fighting her way through the masses of vampires, back to the stairs. In one gigantic leap she jumped the three meters to the podium at the top. Quickly she examined the wound.
"Just lay still Oz," she stated. "The arrow tore off the main blood vessel to your thigh. You need to keep pressure on the wound," she said as she reached within her combat suit and brought out her belt using it as a tourniquet. Still the blood stream was frightening.
"This ain't good." It definitely isn't good. She muttered.
I hope Giles is right about the only ting that could kill a werewolf being a silver bullet She thought.
"Just try to relax," she said to Oz. "Keep your heart rate down. I'll be back soon wolfy. I'm getting Edith."
As she jumped of the podium and down into the kicking, slicing and screaming mass of vampires, she reached inside of herself and draw out every single thread of power she possessed. And with a battle cry, she let the battle rage completely consume her.
Angel felt the power roll through his veins like it never had before. All his power was released, and he didn't feel a shred of the demon-existence. Drusilla had spoken the truth in hell. His demon truly was gone.
With a Celtic battle cry that hadn't been spoken for hundreds of years, he simply ran up the wall and somersaulted through the air, landing in the thickest vampire concentration like a Hell Storm. Moving with such deadly grace that several lesser vampires just stopped in their movements, awe-stricken by this revelation of death.
"Goddess Kali," he heard some of them pray, before they disappeared in a cloud of dust.
And as the memories of Angelus' heinous actions, invaded his mind he started chanting, Silently wowing that none of these vampires would remain undead after this day.
For the first time in 250 years tapping into the Celtic druid magic that was his birthright, he made flames sprout from the blades of his swords. And the power of his mind broke the fighting spirit of his enemies. In the corner of an eye he saw Drusilla run up the stairs leaning over a prone body there. Quickly he ran to the stairs. Rapidly cutting down the vampires that, true to their predatory mind, ran for the wounded prey.
As he reached the top step, he saw Oz lying in a pool of his own blood. Angel felt a twinge of bloodlust, but easily forced it back, now that he didn't have to fight the demon at the same time. He watched As Drusilla brutally and quick ripped the arrow out of Oz's thigh, after first removing the head of the arrow. Then she forced the edges of the wound together, while chanting softly. And, amazingly, the wound closed quickly, and the bleeding was gone.
My god , he thought, as he felt the power emanating from her. What in god's name have I created?
"Nothing," she said an turned to him. "It was Angelus, not you."
"What?!! Oh yeah. You're right. I just didn't think I was speaking loud he said."
"You didn't," she said, and leaped back into the fight, leaving Angel dumbstruck for a moment before he rejoined the fight as well.
Giles started to get tired. Correction. He felt more dead than alive. Every muscle in his body ached by exhaustion. They had now been fighting for well over an hour. And finally, amazingly enough they seemed to be winning. He estimated they had killed over a hundred and fifty vampires tonight, and now only a few of them were left.
He was about to draw his breath in relief, when he suddenly was attacked by what had to be a leftover from Balthazar's troupe. Armoured and with two swords in his hands, he was more than a match for Giles. Giles reached into the darkest recesses of his soul and let Ripper completely loose. But even then, all he could do was to defend as best as he could against this far better swordsman. And with increasing speed he started loosing the grip of the situation. Finally all his reserves were used. And as he parried a stroke to his neck, he fell backwards, onto the floor.
In a desperate attempt, he tried to set up a magical defence shield, but couldn't. He was too exhausted. He forced himself up on his knees, and steadied on the sword. Proudly waiting for the death stroke.
But in a flurry of motion his salvation appeared. With a soft swish, the vampire combusted into a pile of ashes, and stepping on the ashes, was Buffy.
"Thank you," he said to his Slayer.
"You're welcome," she said. And for the briefest moment he thought her eyes turned bright yellow. Then she let out a battle cry and leaped into the last vampires together with the rest of the gang. Dear God , he thought. Dear God don't let it be. It can't be! I must have seen wrong. I must have! , he thought as fear shook his body.
End of chapter eight