Fury of the Beast
Disclaimer: I own nothing, nobody, and have very little money anyway, so the legal trial will take more cash than I have. So please, don't bother.
Oh, side note. I'm ignoring Buffy vs Dracula, cause Dracula's a different guy in the World of Darkness, and the fact that I feel the episode was poorly written, and me rewriting it wouldn't make it any better. Frankly speaking, Buffy wouldn't have stood a chance, considering how powerful Dracula is supposed to be. I think, personally, they cheapened Bram Stoker's character when they put him in Buffy. I know some of you disagree, but I don't think it's the proper point to go onward with the story.
Xander slept though the daylight hours without so much as a twitch. It took a lot of effort for Xander to even consider moving around in the daylight hours, but sometimes, it was needed.
However, today, there was no reason at all for him to not sleep in. Sunnydale was safe from baddies for about a week, and un-life was good.
As the sun set, Xander sat up in his coffin, which he despised.
'Soon, I swear, I'll get a decent, honest-to-god bed along with a haven without holes in the roof. Only reason I sleep in this thing is because it's safer'
He sighed to himself, and looked around his current lodgings.
A small, twenty-square foot room, containing an icebox, a rack holding up his spare clothes, and a lot of roach traps.
'Even my parent's basement was better than this. Wait, scratch that, that place was hell. This is a step up. Maybe the sixth level of hell instead of the seventh. Or was it fifth? Bah, who cares'
Xander got up and dressed, ensuring his trenchcoat was in place, hiding the weaponry he carried.The night was quiet, which wasn't usual. Xander casually strolled along the street, watching a young couple off in the distance.
He envied them, all the things they had, took for granted, what he wouldn't feel again. The feeling of warm sunlight, the beating of the heart, to eat food, and to feel things as only humans could.
A hundred little sensations were gone from Xander's world, a hundred tiny little things that remind someone that he's mortal, alive, human.
'It's true what they say, a person doesn't know what they have until they lose it.' He thought.
He walked past the couple, noting both were alive. At least he wouldn't have to try and play hero tonight, he wasn't that good at it.
Sighing to himself, he continued walking, finding himself in front of the Summers house.
He decided to pop in, say hi to Joyce, Buffy was probably on patrol, and he didn't talk to too many people these days.
He went up, knocking on the door.
Nicholas walked around Sunnydale, searching out prey.
The world had changed so much for him. Now, there was no pain, no fear, no hesitation. Even without the ring, he was more dangerous than ever.
He came across a group of the ugly, demonic vampires hanging out in the central park.
He whistled to get their attention.
This would be fun.
Buffy patrolled, as usual for the nineteen year old Vampire Slayer. It was a quiet night, and no nasty undead were showing up, and even Xander, the nicer version wasn't around much.
'I guess he's moping, or arranging his affairs for the next century or something. He hasn't been himself, but I can't really blame him, he wakes up one night and is suddenly able to live forever, but always in a major funk. Lots of funkiness ahead for Xander. Wish I could help, in a non-slaying capacity'
The sound of screams pulled her out of her thoughts, and she ran forward, towards the central park area.
What she found amazed her.
And horrified her.
For there were four vampires, crucified on several trees, held in place by crosses impaled through their hands. They had been sliced open, as if with an extremely sharp blade. Each was writhing and moaning, and Buffy's sharp eyes picked out a couple of dust piles at the base of the trees.
She almost felt sorry for them, and quickly put them all out of their misery, idly wondering what could cause this.
Darkness.
That was all there was.
All that was left of him. There was nothing left but the all-encompassing darkness in his heart. He had been on the brink of falling into nothingness, when one came and made him an offer.
Now, a small part of him wished he had not accepted. But that small part was unconscious, buried under the hate, the rage, the pain and anguish. The misery consumed him, and he felt the need to spread the misery even as he felt the need to breathe.
Only when others felt pain would he feel joy. For that was all there was.
Darkness.
The light hurt. He did not burn, for the daylight did not affect him. The light was hovering on the edges of his awareness, knowing that if he should walk into it, he'd lose his powers. He didn't want that. He made a deal, and the power was worth it. Never mind what would happen when the time came, he was now more, much more, than he was.
Even if that was all that was left.
The creature once known as Nicholas, the Immortal, went to his bed in the motel.
The sun shined on him, but inside, all there was, was darkness.
Spike was bored.
It was a feeling known well to the just-over-a-century-old vampire. As sure as he had an annoying chip in his head, he was bored to tears because of it. He'd love to go out and have a snack, but like that pea-brain of a grandsire, he had to go and get his blood from the local butcher shop. He was acting like Peaches and that sad excuse for a vampire, Harris.
A thought finally crossed Spike's bored, not too bright mind. He couldn't hurt humans anymore.
But Alexander Harris wasn't a human anymore.
An evil grin crossed his face as he went into the lower level of his crypt, to gain the proper materials.
After all, torture was no fun if it was over quickly.
Xander walked along the street, watching as happy couples walked by, and lamenting his own fate. Everyone was preparing for Christmas, the great holiday of the year.
Never mind there were more suicides at Christmas than any other time of the year.
Xander hummed to himself, trying to get rid of those melancholy thoughts. They always intruded these days, like a herd of roaches trying to get into a garbage can.
'Okay, disgusting thought. Come on, I've got to do something here'
He strolled into the mall, ruffling through his trenchcoat.
'Okay, I've got fifty bucks, what can I get for the Buffster for fifty bucks'
Somebody tapped him on the shoulder, and Xander turned.
"Hey, Wills, doing your holiday shopping?" He asked.
"Yep, just trying to figure out what I can get for Tara, how bout you?" She replied.
"No clue, Willow, I'm not exactly made of money these days, you know."
She simply shrugged.
"Well, I'm just gonna wander and see what I can pick up. See you later Wills."
With that, Xander wandered into the crowd. Willow followed him with her eyes, a look of sadness on her face. She continued her holiday shopping, much less enthusiastically.
The next night, Xander walked into his haven, sighing as he took a bottle out of his pocket and sipped from it, absently.
Blood and Scotch. Almost as good as taking Scotch normally, but again, something was missing. However, it did leave a pleasant, burning sensation as it went down his throat.
After a few hours of drinking, Xander passed out.
So he didn't notice as the front door opened.
He didn't notice as the demon came in his home.
He didn't notice the blond vampire standing beyond, unable to enter.
He didn't notice the feral grin on that vampire's face as the Kun'gai demon lugged the fledgling vampire out the door.
He also didn't notice that vampire's statement.
"Alright, let's have some fun. It's been too long since I had a good time with a slab of meat."
Los Angeles, December 25th, 2001
Xander awoke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his haven. He was in a much less comfortable place. Hanging from the ceiling, bound hand and foot with thick chains, in a very uncomfortable spread eagle position.
The second thing he noticed was that he was getting dripped on the forehead by a steady stream of water, and it was more than annoying.
The third thing he noticed was that is dank, dark, and something stank royally.
"Great, I'm in a sewer, hung like cattle meat, and I've got a hangover, my day can't get much better..."
Out of the darkness. "Sorry mate, I can prove you wrong there."
"Yeah, seeing you makes my day just peachy, fangless. What's the big idea?" Xander said.
"Ever since I got this chip in my head, I've been deprived of having a little fun, a little mayhem, the chance to hurt a little goody-two shoes. But since you're here, and you're a card-carrying member of the undead club, I can practice until I get this thing out of my head."
Spike wheeled a tray out, with a large number of knives, hooks, barbs, wooden implements, and some small bottles.
"Oh, and Harris. Merry Christmas."
After that, only Xander's screams filled the room.
Once again, the gang searched.
They called Angel, they used a tracking spell, and they used good old-fashioned guesswork.
What they didn't know was that Spike had anticipated all this.
He buried Xander's body in an old sewer, walling him up with concrete. He then had a demon shaman cast a ward on the area, ensuring no mystical tracking spell could find him.
Finally, he removed anything metal from Xander's person, so even a metal detectors wouldn't beep near him.
And so, time passed, Xander lying in Torpor, unaware of the passage of time.
Six decades went by.
The city had been rebuilt, and now they needed a new subway system. In order to support the new station they were building, they had to remove the old sewer walls.
Unfortunately, they did not know what would be unleashed when they did.
The murders of the construction workers went unsolved. They did capture the attention of the authorities. As well as one ensouled vampire. Most had been killed with blows, some were drained, and some had been smashed against the walls, causing massive internal injuries. Only after all the bodies had been collected and counted, had one worker found his causal clothing was missing.
January 10th, 2063, Los Angeles, upper district.
Xander wandered, at once marveled, and disgusted, at everything that had happened.
He'd awoke in frenzy, killing everything in sight until he'd drank enough for it to subside.
He was still crazed, his last memories of Spike's ginning face as he tortured Xander with glee.
Spike would pay, oh yes, he would pay.
'Now if only I can figure out why the hell nobody's turning a head at the demons walking down the street'
They were everywhere. Little things about half his size, scampering about. Then there were massive guys, twice his size, pushing everybody and thing out of their way.
One had tried it on Xander. He was quite surprised when Xander flung him into a wall with little effort. After that, the others didn't try it again.
The place looked like a flea market, maybe one from Dungeons and Dragons and with very high-tech, but a flea market nonetheless.
Humans and other creatures were moving about, some buying, some selling, others simply browsing.
Xander wasn't sure, but he thought he caught a pointed ear on some of the 'human' shopkeepers.
'Okay, more and more messed up by the minute'
Xander spotted a phone booth, so he walked into it. He was perplexed for a minute, as there wasn't a phone book, but only a blank screen.
He tapped it, and it came online.
"Um, hey, I'd like to make a call." He said.
The computer beeped, and responded. "Identify subject."
"I'm looking for a guy named Angel." He said.
147 names.
Xander wrote them down, and began to eliminate the list, one by one.
The warehouse was a standard setup for a Giovanni operation. They always set up in much the same way. After all, 99% of the time, it was an effective way. 99% of the times not everything went to plan, the rather strong vampires inside could handle it.
Unfortunately, this was that .2% of the time they couldn't handle a thing.
The creature stood in the doorway, a massive, demonic sword in it's hand, it's blazing red eyes casting a light over the warehouse, it's horned head giving an awesome air of intimidation.
The Giovanni scrambled for their weapons.
That took all of three seconds.
However, they were all dead in two.
Xander walked into the Hyperion Hotel, certainly looking odd.
He was dressed in a pair of red jeans, a blue shirt, and a gray trenchcoat. The standard casual clothing these days, but pretty much unheard of sixty years ago.
An elderly lady was sitting behind the counter, wearing very thick glasses, with an open notebook, writing something long and complex down.
"Um, hello?" Xander said.
She looked up.
"Welcome to Angel Investigations, can I help you?" She said.
"Yeah, I'm looking for Angel." He replied.
A harsh, gravely voice came from the top of the stairs.
"I'm Angel."
Xander looked.
And blinked.
So did the fifty-plus looking man at the top of the stairs.
"Angel?" "Xander?" The both said at the exact same time.
"Aw man, this just keeps getting better and better...." Xander groaned.
Poor Xander. He's not going to like the changes too much, don'tcha think?