FIC: Ravages Of Hell (18?)
Petra spun around as the door crashed open, her action copied by her companions, only to stop when she recognised the interlopers as Mr. Harris, Mr. Wood, and her fellow Slayers. "Room secured, sir," she resisted temptation to salute.
Her knees almost buckled at the one-eyed man's smile. "I can see that. Well done," the American looked around, "well done all of you." Petra blushed at the praise. The Sunnydale hero's face turned serious. "Now-."
The hotel door burst open and a pair of security guards rushed in. They were met by Wood who caught the first with a thumping kick to the groin. The man gurgled and began to double up. Wood grabbed the winded man by the collar and shoved him into his colleague's path.
Eyes widening, the security guard attempted to stop but crashed into the other man, sending him stumbling helplessly forward. Wood leapt into the air, catching the unfortunate second man full in the face with a roundhouse kick, knocking him flat out. The first man was up to his knees when Wood caught him with a downward cross to the temple, likewise knocking him out.
"As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted," Xander nodded towards Wood before looking at the bed. "Let's get that moved shall we? Martina? Petra?"
Her fellow Slayer joined her in flipping over the room's four-postered bed, revealing the trapdoor beneath. For a long second they all stared at the heavy wooden door. Eventually Xander flung the door open, revealing a set of torch lit steps leading downwards. "Let's go."
"Master! Master! Master!"
Master Argo's head snapped up when one of his minions flung the double doors to his throne room open and charged in. "What is the meaning of this disturbance?"
The minion, a thickly muscled Rodaz by the unusual name of Clint, quailed at his roar before dropping to one knee, his gaze fixed downwards. "M…my apologies, mi' lord, but we've been invaded."
"Invaded!" Argo's eyes bulged and breath came in shocked gasps. In sixteen centuries the Order's headquarters had remained impregnable. And now it was attacked while under his stewardship. His two hearts started to pound erratically. "Who dares!" he thundered.
The Rodaz's reply hit him like a thunderbolt. "Slayers, it's the Slayers!"
Pavel Baros' eyes widened as he slammed on his patrol car's brakes, pulling the car to a screeching halt. "I….it's not possible."
"And yet there it is," his partner, Karel Neved, whispered.
"W…what do we do?" Baros asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the terrifying apparition before them. The seven foot tall, fur covered monster in the road most definitely couldn't be a werewolf, no matter how much it looked like one. The beast was flipping over parked cars, ripping lampposts out of the ground and pitching them through shop windows, and punching holes through walls. At least it hadn't attacked humans. Yet.
"Calling for back-up would be a start," Karel suggested.
"Good idea." Eyes still fixed on the gigantic beast before them, Baros reached for the radio before pausing. "What do I say?"
For a second his question was met by silence. "Help would be a start," his partner commented.
Xander swallowed as he reached the bottom of the steps, entering the stone-paved corridor, its walls were adorned with colourful tapestries depicting blood-curdling scenes of murder and torture, while the cloying stench of incense hung heavy in the shadowy air, clogging up the lungs of him and his companions. "Home, sweet home," he muttered sarcastically before turning to the others. "Martina, Petra, with me. The rest of you know what to do."
Even as he gave out his instructions, he checked his armament of shotgun, grenades, automatic, and broadsword. "I knew I should have packed my rocket launcher," he sighed before turning towards his companions. "Lets go."
Xander wiped at the sweat beading down his forehead, the subterranean hell's stifling heat making his clothes stick to him. Over the past few torrid hours, they'd fought their way through a horrifying collection of demons. But now, he glanced at the thick wooden doors before them, they'd reached their target, the Order's main chamber. "Ready?" his two companions, their faces dirty and streaked with sweat and their eyes nervous, nodded. "Get back!" he slammed a lump of C4 onto the door before retreating and putting in a pair of ear plugs.
A half second after he'd put in the second plug and the door exploded inwards, ripping the door off its hinges as it flew into the darkened room beyond. Coughing slightly at the resulting smoke, Xander removed his ear plugs before nodding to his Slayer escort. "Be careful," he warned before stepping into the chamber.
The walls of the pentagonal meeting hall were lined with portraits of demons, probably former Order rulers. The darkly stark room was dominated by a central stone dais upon which stood a bare-looking throne.
A cowled figure sat on the throne. Despite its long robe, Xander could tell the sat figure had an Olympian set of muscles. He swallowed when the figure stood, revealing its towering height. "Have you come to pay homage?"
Xander's blood chilled at the monster's hiss. "Actually," he eased the hammer back on his shotgun. "We're here to kill you."
The monster's teeth gleamed in the darkness. "Then do it!"
Wood winced as an ogre punched him in his left shoulder, his arm erupting in pain. Biting back a scream, he slid under the misshapen beast's thundering haymaker, the punch shattering a brick in the wall behind him. He retaliated with a back-handed sword swing that ripped into the monster's left thigh.
Blood gushed out of the ogre's meaty limb. The pain of his attack turned the monster berserk; its roars threatening to burst his ear-drums, the ogre snatched his sword out of his hand and flung it clattering to the ground. Then he grabbed Wood in a crushing bear-hug. Which given the ogre's body odour was a lot closer than he wanted to be.
"Argggh!" Wood flailed at the ogre's hideous face, trying to punch his way loose. It was like punching stone, his knuckles bruising even as his vision blurred and ribs creaked until the ogre's crushing assault.
He gasped as the pressure was suddenly released and he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. Blinking his eyes clear, he looked up in bemusement.
His confusion cleared as he watched the decapitated monster fall to the ground beside him. Ruby looked down at him from behind where the demon had stood, the aptly named flame-haired Slayer's face crinkled in concern. "Are you alright?" I'm sorry I didn'-."
He waved the freckle-faced Slayer to silence as he stumbled to his feet. "I'm fine," he smiled. "Thanks to you." His smile withered as he thought about the others. What about them, were they alright? "Are the last of the explosives planted?" The cheerleader nodded. "Great, let's get out of here."
Oz growled as he powered into a side street, turning down into an alley, his wide shoulders scraping the walls flanking him and his paws slapping against the alley's cobblestones.
He had to give it to Xander, his diversionary plan had worked. Altogether too well. It seemed as if half of Prague's police force was hunting him. He'd had visions of pitchfork-wielding mobs hunting him down like something out of a Hammer horror film, but they hadn't come true. Yet.
Smelling a pair of sweating, trembling policemen waiting in ambush at the far end of the alley, he charged out, tore the open-mouthed patrolmen's pistols from their hands, and smashed their heads together. Dropping the unconscious men to the ground, he hurried to the place he'd hidden his change of clothes.
Xander recoiled instinctively when the roaring finger leapt to his feet, knocking his throne over in the process. The demon tore his robe off, revealing the powerful physique of a gargoyle complete with leathery, bat-shaped wings fixed to its v-shaped back. The loin-clothed monster stared down at them, the hatred in its yellow eyes chilling in their intensity, and made even worse by the sight of its forked tongue lolling over its teeth. "WHO DARES!" screeched the mammoth demon.
Xander hesitantly raised his free hand. "Uh, that would be us." This was a very bad idea.
The gargoyle screeched again before leaping off the dais and towards them, wings furiously flapping. Xander raised his shotgun and fired.
The order master was flung backwards by the consecrated ammo, crashing to the ground in an ungainly heap at the foot of the dais. "See," Xander beamed at his companions, "that wasn't-." His voice trailed off when the grey-skinned monster clambered to its clawed feet, green viscera oozing out of a gaping wound, but the baleful glare in its eyes undimmed. "Oh crap."
"Aieeee!" The monster lunged forward.
"Wait!" The two Slayers leapt to meet it, ignoring his shouts for caution, and were swept aside by the bulldozing demon's rampage at him. Xander tried desperately to re-load his shotgun but before he had chance, the monster had its claws around his throat, choking him as it smashed his head into the wall behind. "I recognise you," the demon hissed. "Xander Harris. The least of the Scoobies."
"Is that right?" Xander's hackles rose at the gargoyle's dismissive tone. Although at the moment, he gurgled for air, it was hard to argue with the assessment. Both because he was easily getting his ass handed to him and also because he was struggling to breath. "But still," he drew his automatic and fired at the monster, "I managed this!"
The top quarter of the monster's head was torn off by the shot, splattering blood everywhere. The demon shrieked as he flew backwards, crashing onto the ground. Xander's eye widened as the monster started to rise. "Oh, give me a break!" he complained, his voice still hoarse from his near strangulation.
The two Slayers appeared behind the gargoyle, their swords slicing through the demon's hamstrings. The gargoyle fell to his hands and knees. Xander levelled his automatic and fired. The round smashed into the beast, tearing what remained of its head off its shoulders. Xander looked towards the Slayers. "Remember when I tell you not to run, don't. I'm," Xander rubbed at his aching throat, "attached to my throat."
"Just not your eyes apparently?" queried one of the Slayers.
Xander shot the Slayer a glare. "Now I know how Giles felt," he muttered before raising his voice. Let's get out of here and back to England." He just hoped everyone else's mission went well.