As waves of Chaos energy steadily emanated from the small bust of Janus perched on the cash register counter of the costume shop, Ethan Rayne gloried in the sensations he was experiencing from tonight's manifestation of his god, with that man actually bouncing on his feet from sheer delight, as he stood before that flat surface. The drumming of the sorcerer's fingers against the top of the counter was also being done in time with the rhythmic nodding of his head, accompanied by the loud humming that a smirking Ethan found too entertaining to stop, as a very particular song from the mid-sixties continued to resound inside his head.
It really was a pity that he couldn't leave his shop and actually see for himself just what the Briton had maliciously set into motion a mere few hours ago, but this gleeful man was absolutely sure the specific pairs of toy cars he'd previously slipped into two individual costumes would cause things to properly work out just as they should.
The only factor that might have made him hesitate back then was the exceedingly explicit climax which would happen to that utterly magnificent machine from his very own native land, but, well, omelets and broken eggs and all that, dum-de-dummm…
Spike shifted from game face back into his human appearance, wiping off a stray drop of blood from his chin and sucking his fingertip that had caught this delicious bit of bodily fluid before it could drip onto his latest trophy and possibly cause an unwanted stain. Shrugging his shoulders inside his perfectly-fitting black leather jacket, the vampire smirked down at the still form of his latest victim, lying face down on the asphalt of the Sunnydale alley where that college student had been caught and turned into tonight's meal for Spike. Simply for a lark, the demon had stripped off this fine piece of menswear just before he'd murdered that human, since his own jacket he'd taken from the dead Slayer bint back in New York decades before was being cleaned and couldn't be picked up until tomorrow. A pleased Spike running his hands down the sides of the soft, buttery fabric of his newest prize happily decided that he'd keep this first-rate jacket as a spare, since its former owner that had been wearing the coat as part of his Halloween costume certainly didn't need it any more.
As his fingers idly continued their stroking of the jacket, Spike unexpectedly felt something hard in one of the pockets, and he casually investigated, to then pull out a set of car keys. Beginning to toss these up in the air, a mildly-intrigued vampire spoke out loud, half to himself, "Wonder what kind of ride that bloke had and where it's parked. I feel like going for a bit of a spin and maybe running over a kiddie or two-"
In a flash of white flesh, the car keys were plucked out of Spike's grip, with the young woman who'd just done that then drifting away in her ragged Victorian garb, as Drusilla headed to the alley mouth, not looking back at an surprised Spike, his victim sprawled on the ground, or the other female the same age as the deceased college student and equally dead, with this human's date for tonight being left at her position further back in the alley and staring blankly upwards with her open eyes and ripped-apart throat.
From the departing vampiress' own throat came a humming sound, as she continued the unknown tune that was truly beginning to tick off Spike. He'd grumpily refrained from asking Dru what she'd been singing about ever since their big blowup last night, when after explaining to her his newest plan to kill Buffy Summers, Dru had gone into one of her fits, blathering about the Slayer who wasn't a Slayer, a soldier, and a ghost, all intermixed with her usual whimpering about the stars and Miss Edith. Spike had patiently put up with it all, until she'd gone on much longer than the insane demoness had ever done before, causing her lover to finally lose his temper and bellow, "DRU, SHUT THE BLEEDIN' HELL UP!"
Well, she had. Only to then stare directly at him with her mad eyes for a full five minutes in dead silence, and then she'd started that damn humming, all while dolefully regarding Spike. In the end, it had resulted in that English vampire stalking out of the crypt they'd been currently occupying, heading into Sunnydale proper in a desperate search for some peace and quiet, even if it was on Halloween, a holiday that blood-drinking monster ordinarily despised. Dru had followed right along, still continuing her closed-mouth singing throughout it all, just like she was doing now, as a cranky Spike went after his lover leaving the alley. When the two vampires came out into the quiet Sunnydale street, Spike blinked at where Drusilla was standing on the sidewalk like a statue, using one arm to point down the road, making him follow her gesture to where parked under a streetlight was…
"Oh, you beauty," softly whispered Spike, as he stared at the like-new 1963 Jaguar XK-E roadster, enthrallingly shining in the narrow cone of illumination from the light above, its bright red paint gleaming in the exact color of fresh blood. "You absolute beauty."
This time, it was Spike who drifted towards this utterly marvelous machine, just barely registering in his trance the car keys being slipping into his hand by Drusilla along the way, who'd also stopped her incessant humming. Absently clutching these items, Spike stopped by the car currently having its soft-top roof folded back, to stare down for long minutes at one of the wonders of the automobile world. Finally coming out of his daze, the vampire then blinked and looked around, to find Drusilla standing patiently there next to him. A wide grin splitting his face, Spike bent down to reach into the car and open the passenger door, all the while jovially saying, "Your carriage awaits you, my lady."
Eagerly awaiting his lover's reaction, Spike's exultant mood abruptly turned into puzzled worry at seeing Drusilla's blank countenance remaining unchanging, except for two sudden tears that appeared on her features, to then roll down her cheeks. The next instant, Drusilla slowly nodded once, as if in acceptance, and she stepped past Spike still holding the car door open for her, for that vampiress to take her seat inside the English-made vehicle, as she now stared straight ahead through the low front windshield.
A troubled Spike simply stood there for a few moments, until he at last shrugged in resigned acceptance over this latest example of the madwoman's odd behavior, and the demon then carefully swung the passenger door closed, with his spirits promptly rising at the sound of the solid 'clunk' this produced from that finely-built machine. Spike now dashed around to the driver's side, almost skipping in his enthusiasm, and he got into that left seat, sinking down into the car with a joyous sigh that came from the very bottom of his unbeating heart.
It all felt so…right. The driver's seat engulfed him as perfectly as did his leather jacket, and it seemed that he'd been waiting his whole life - both the human and vampire parts of it - to be nowhere else but here, in this exact spot. Lovingly extending his hand with the car keys in it, Spike experienced the smoothness of the key sliding into the ignition with all the pleasure as if he was slowly thrusting the instrument of torture that had given the vampire his nickname into the flesh of his worse enemy. Cautiously turning the key, Spike thrilled to the throaty rumble of the Coventry-created engine, and he then simply listened in quiet appreciation for the minute or so necessary to allow the supremely-tuned machinery to warm up. Shifting into first at the proper moment, Spike took his foot off the brake, and the car then drove off into the Sunnydale night.
The Jaguar glided through the California city as effortlessly as if it were its animal namesake, with this car's driver zealously obeying every traffic law. Not because Spike cared the slightest tinker's damn about anyone else on the road, but he was not going to put a single scratch or dent on his superb ride. Already planning where to garage the newly-acquired car in someplace absolutely secure where he could gloat over it as often as he liked, the contended vampire came to a stop when the traffic light ahead on their street turned red. Blissfully throwing his right arm over the shoulders of a silent Drusilla next to himself, Spike gently stroked the back of her neck, but she refused to turn her head or otherwise acknowledge the other vampire, until the young-looking woman stiffened in her seat, at the exact moment another car pulled up in the other lane by the British vehicle.
Spike peered past Drusilla's set face, his own features shifting into mild surprise at what he was now seeing beyond their car. There, with its own engine softly rumbling as it waited for the light to change to green, was a classic silver Corvette from the same time period as the Jaguar. That equally-magnificent machine hid behind its left window a single driver, who possessed oddly-dim features unable to be clearly seen even by Spike's keen vampiric vision. That demon now squinted, trying to make out exactly who was in there, until that driver shifted in his seat, turning his head and clearly looking back at Spike, who still couldn't make out any specific features. However, what that stranger next did was totally unmistakable.
Still looking at Spike, the Corvette's driver caused his engine to utter a short, loud roar of serious horsepower, sending a very clear and blunt message.
Promptly forgetting his recent vow to treat the Jaguar with kid gloves, Spike allowed a truly evil smirk to appear on his lips, as he then willingly stomped his car's accelerator, producing an abrupt, thunderous response of equal mechanical authority. The other driver nodded once, indicating he was ready to begin their challenge when the traffic signal indicated the suitable moment, as per the proper courtesies. Still having a maniac grin on his face, Spike faced forward, keeping his eye on the light as he waited for it to change, keeping ready both his right hand upon the gearshift and his right foot on the brake. The vampire was too excited to bother thinking that Drusilla hadn't made the slightest movement or protest about anything that had just happened; instead Spike was impatiently waiting for-
The traffic light turned green.
In a blur of motion, Spike shifted into forward and shoved the accelerator down, causing the Jaguar to take off like a rocket. However, the Englishman's triumphant whoop trailed off into an astonished gurgle, as he disbelievingly watched the other car shoot much more quickly down the street, shimmering like a silvery ghost as that car's six taillights seemingly taunted the pursuing vampire. His face now grim, an enraged Spike held his accelerator fully down, ignoring all else around himself until after a minute later, as both cars flashed through Sunnydale, the Jaguar finally caught up, and then passed its opponent.
Now in the lead, Spike lifted his head and he screamed a celebratory victory howl that was speedily carried away in the onrushing air over the open car, to then bring back his exultant attention to the road, just in time to see the extremely sharp curve in the road coming up at immense speed. Once again depending upon his vampiric reflexes, a confident Spike began to move his foot from the accelerator to the brake pedal, as his right arm moved to the gearshift to shift down. Except, he then abruptly became totally unable to move, sitting absolutely frozen in his seat, as an unseen force clamped down upon all of his limbs, and the Jaguar now went into the curve, and with nobody in control of this vehicle, it began to skid off the road, right into the massive concrete retaining wall lining the curving side of the street….
Just before the Jaguar hit and exploded in a massive ball of flame that completely consumed the car and its riders, with Spike still incapable of any physical reaction, that terrified vampire did manage to hear the soft words of the song coming from his passenger, as Drusilla calmly accepted their fate by finally expressing out loud what she'd previously foreseen, all caused by Ethan Rayne's meddling:
"Dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Won't come back from dead man's curve"
Author's Note:
"I was cruising in my Stingray late one night
When an XKE pulled up on the right
And rolled down the window of his shiny new Jag
And challenged me then and there to a drag
I said, "You're on, buddy, my mill's runnin' fine
Let's come off the line, now, at Sunset and Vine
I'll go you one better if you've got the nerve
Let's race all the way to dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Won't come back from dead man's curve
The street was deserted late Friday night
We were buggin' each other while we sat out the light
We both popped the clutch when the light turned green
You shoulda heard the whine from my screamin' machine
I flew past LaBrea, Schwab's, and Crescent Heights
And all the Jag could see were my six taillights
He passed me at Doheny then I started to swerve
But I pulled her out and there we were
At dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Dead man's curve
Won't come back from dead man's curve
Well, the last thing I remember, Doc, I started to swerve
And then I saw the Jag slide into the curve
I know I'll never forget that horrible sight
I guess I found out for myself that everyone was right
Won't come back from dead man's curve
Dead man's curve, dead man's curve
Dead man's curve, dead man's curve
Dead man's curve, dead man's curve"
"Dead Man's Curve" by Jan and Dean, 1964, on the album "Drag City", written by Jan Berry, Roger Christian, Brian Wilson, Artie Kornfeld.