Chapter Five: A New Day Dawns

Sunnydale Apartment Complex

November 1st 5:30am

Jasper Clausen stared at himself in the mirror over his bathroom sink in shock. Well, not exactly at 'himself.' More like a buffed-up version of his reflection. His icy-blue eyes roamed over his broad chest, looking for all the world like he was the newest competitor for the Mr. Universe awards. Which wasn't bad in retrospect, what man wouldn't want to have a ripped body? His slightly-rounded belly had leveled out, now containing thick rock-hard muscle.

He had bits and pieces of Superman's memories in his head. Each time he closed his eyes a new one would pop up. A raven-haired woman with rosy lips and bright blue eyes, (whom he never married, or dated) a father and mother who were kind and, and…

Why do I have them? he thought as he shook his head, trying to get the memory of flying through the clouds out of his mind. Jasper took in a shaky breath to calm himself, running a hand through his disheveled sun-kissed hair, remembering the events leading up to this morning's bathroom mirror revelation.

He had bought a costume two nights ago from a new place a few blocks away. The owner, Ethan, had approached him asking if he liked the classic Superman costume. Jasper said "yes" (after much persuasion from the owner) and the man had quickly offered him a discount. At the time he had been overjoyed, he now had a costume for his church's party. Sadly, he only had enough money for the suit at that moment, so the black hair-dye at the check-out had been out of the question.

Jasper planned on buying the dye earlier the next day, only to lose interest in it later on. He could go as the first blonde Man of Steel ever! He remembered walking the streets to his church, the sun having descended in the sky to give way to the moon. He stepped up to a curb, ready to walk across the concrete sidewalk as the cool air lightly touched his face. And then, raging pain spilled out across his entire body. The rest of the night was just a blur of half-formed images and odd smells.

Jasper faintly remembered a deep echo-like voice calling out right before the pain. At least he thought it was a voice. A few hours later he stumbled into his apartment, mechanically finding his way to his unmade bed. And until now, he had completely forgotten about the strange occurrence. A part of Jasper felt giddy at having the body of his favorite superhero, but mostly, he just wanted to get past the shock of it all. Thankfully, he didn't have Clark's powers. He wasn't quite sure how he'd react to that.

The morning sun just barely peeked out from the horizon, letting in pale streams of light through a small glassy window on the far east wall. The light itself wasn't much, but it did brighten up the small room, giving off a 'cheerful' feeling as it bounced across the creamy tiled floor. The milk-white walls, red towels and plain curtains also seemed a little bit brighter as well. He smiled as the warmth of the sun danced against his skin. It felt…good in a way, like he was being washed in blanket of comforting energy.

Thinking of being washed made him remember why he was here in the first place, he could sift through the memories later. Jasper reached down to the faucet with his right hand, intent on letting the cool water run over his face. It usually helped clear his mind. He grasped the handle between his fingers and pulled…

SNAP

The audible sound of breaking metal filled the air like a cracking twig, brittle and light-weight. Jasper stared at the cool dull-silver piece in his hand, then back at the broken faucet handle in amazement. The silver piece weighed absolutely nothing in his palm, it was like holding air. That is, if air itself 'could' be held.

"How?" he mumbled out, the word itself more like a whisper. Well, he thought to himself sarcastically. This is just great, I broke my own bathroom faucet! He set the piece of metal down on the edge of the white countertop. The soft 'ding' of metal hitting porcelain crushed any notion of this being a dream.

Jasper shook his head, maybe it was just …faulty? He sighed, hoping that he could fix it since he really didn't want to buy a brand new one. But how am I going to… His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an irritated "meow" from behind. Jasper turned around, expecting to see the little fluff-ball scowling at him again.

He wasn't disappointed, the light-brown tabby stared at him with intense concentration. As if just staring at him would 'will' him to give her an earlier meal. Her bright-green eyes never even blinked, though her body did relax more as the sunlight drifted over it. Jasper stared right back at her, it wasn't time for her to eat yet. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that she would just keep pestering him until she got her way. Her eyes narrowed into glassy pinpricks, like tiny daggers they stabbed at him, eerily conveying the idea that she was aggravated.

He sighed in frustration while attempting to keep his composure as unmovable as stone. A stony-face and steely-resolve would do it. It worked, too, for about nine seconds, before he finally crumbled.

"Alright, fine, Cocoa, you win." He walked to the small kitchen for the food in defeat. Jasper could have sworn Cocoa's face gushed with pride the minute he passed her. He shook his head in amusement and slight worry. He had just lost a staring contest with the cat, again.

As it turned out, it wasn't just the faucet handle that would break. When he opened the pantry door, shock overtook him for the second time that day. He stood there in disbelief, holding the hinge-less wooden door by its knob. Cocoa meanwhile was looking at him as she meowed, demanding her food.


Sunnydale High School Library 6:23am

Willow Rosenberg stifled a yawn as she sat at the wooden table. She was almost tempted to take Giles' offer of hot tea seriously. She hadn't slept much after last night's…event. Buffy hadn't fared well either, she had been combing the cemeteries for Xander; now she was checking the Bronze. Buffy's mother stayed home in case he went over there, or called. Willow sat in front of her laptop, busily searching for any information about the character he dressed as. Which by now was a lot.

She never imagined there were so many versions of Cobra Commander. At this point she couldn't find an exact match to Xander's version. She had found some mention of him, but most of it was just trailers for the new movie coming out, not the specific details that she was looking for.

Essentially, the one thing that stood out was that all of them were violent. It varied between each Cobra Commander. Some were more comical, while others were much too realistic. She considered hacking her way into the movie director's personal files. She could do it. She had no doubt about it, and…

Her fingers hovered over the keys for an instant. Maybe she shouldn't. There wasn't any guarantee that she would find something anyway. Besides, she'd already hacked into the Mayor's computer, which proved no help in locating Xander. No mention of an attack by a masked figure or anything un-Mayor like. But on the bright side the Mayor was safe, so that was good. However, she did find an encrypted file labeled Hongse duye. Which she had a strong feeling was Chinese, or maybe Korean? Sadly, she was unable to crack it. She felt so… inept.

She had a burning desire to find her Xander-shaped friend, yet gained little to no headway in success. It was frustrating, no, aggravating that she hadn't found anything yet. They had already searched the school and Ethan's abandoned store, without luck.

Perhaps Giles had found a tracking spell in one of his books? Willow glanced at where the Watcher was, his left hand just poking out from behind a far-off bookcase near the stairs to the upper floor. He was putting the books left on the floor from last night back on their rightful shelves. From the sound of disappointment emanating from his mouth, he hadn't found anything either. A few hours ago he'd gone looking for Xander at his house.

Needless to say, Xander's father wasn't very helpful, or even concerned by his son's disappearance. If anything, the man was angry with Giles for interrupting his sleep. Stupid drunken dunderhead, she thought furiously. She had half a mind to hit the oaf.

Anyone who didn't care about their children's safety shouldn't be able to have them. She turned back to her laptop as she tried to distance herself from that thought. The only thing they had to go on was Xanders costume, the disheveled library and a missing book about the Mayor. Willow really hoped that Angel had found something in the sewers, or that Ms. Calendar had found him somewhere around town…


Sunnydale Sewer Network

"Hey, find your own food, man, we ain't sharing!" the chubby vampire declared as he and his friend hovered over an obscured body.

Now I remember why half the vampires in town stick to the abandoned warehouses; place smells like a dump with rotting corpses, Angel thought in disgust as he stared at the rag-covered vampires. He wasn't able to see much, even with his enhanced sight, but the filth-covered walls strongly reminded him of the slums in 18th century London. At least this part of the sewers anyway, the rest of the tunnels weren't that bad compared to this section.

This part of the sewers was dark and gloomy, with old stone crumbling in places and a cobbling of wooden support beams just barely holding together. Plus it was drenched in sewage water…with the faint waft of greenish-mold seeping from certain areas on the floor. Definitely the slums, he thought as he pulled his attention back to the vampires.

"Yeah, we ain't sharing. So back off!" the other barked out as he inched nearer to Xander's neck, unlike the other vampire this one was lean and skinny. The creature's hair was a dark grey instead of the bug-infested dirt-brown of his chubby companion. Both morphed their faces from the average human to their real demonic visages. Their brows enlarged into smooth edges, while their eyebrows seemed to disappear completely. Intense yellow eyes stared at him like hungry lions, underneath which dark-red bags sagged alongside sharp-angled cheekbones.

"I'm not here to eat him." Angel said as he morphed his face into its own vampiric form, fangs elongating behind his reddish lips. He felt his demon stir, relishing in the prospect of a fight to the death. Angel held fast as he slammed it down to its regular noise, it was always 'talking' but it became more active right before or during fights. The fat one seemed to grin in the low and dirty light of the sewers, his chest puffing out in bravery, or stupidity as he tightened his fists. He stepped away from Xander, pulling out an old wooden stake from a ratty pouch on his side.

"Whatever, you're still not taking him." He sneered as he lunged at Angel, attempting to stake him in the heart. In a whirl of motion Angel turned his body to the side, grabbing the vampire's outstretched arm by the wrist. The momentum carried the demon forward as its arm was yanked back. A look of brief bewilderment crossed its deformed face before…

A sharp crack was heard as the force of motion dislocated the creature's shoulder. It cried out in pain. Angel held the vampire's wrist, guiding the hand and arm behind the demon's back in one fluid action, then forcefully jammed the stake through his opponent's ribcage and into its heart.

The fat vampire turned to dust, white ash falling to the cracked stone floor like fresh snow. Angel gripped the stake with his left hand tighter. He faced the other demon. Turning the stake so he could strike at his other opponent, his eyes locked onto the other vampire.

Just as he was about to toss the wooden instrument at its bony chest…

"Wait! I can tell you who gave us the kid!" the skinny creature shrieked out, then it fell to the floor like it was groveling before the embodiment of nature. Angel paused, lowering his arm as the vampire began to ramble on. Something about a man in a black suit dumping an unconscious Xander at their feet. The unknown man told them to "Drain the boy." At first they both scoffed, who was this human who thought he could order them around? After trying to feast off of the unknown man and being soundly whipped and beaten, they thought twice about it. Besides, the boy was already bleeding and the sweet smell called to their raging hunger like ravenous bears to honey… So, why not? It was free food after all.

Angel sighed in aggravation, he knew that was all he could get from the vampire. This mysterious man apparently knew how to hide in the shadows very well. Apparently neither of them had seen the man's face. Too bad, he would've liked to have met the guy that caused Buffy to worry about Xander. That way he could rip out his heart for not only making him trudge through the sewers, but also making the Slayer panic.

He turned his full attention to the vampire again, lifting his arm up and throwing the shoddy stake before it could even scream in alarm. He never said he'd spare him, besides it was one less threat to the Slayer, his girlfriend. Angel glanced at Xander's body on the sludge-covered stone, he was still alive.

Good. He didn't want to bring back bad news to the others, even though he disliked Xander, he didn't wish for his death.

He'd caught the boy's scent halfway through the tunnels, it was weak at first, but now that he was so close it was more noticeable. Though the smell of the sewers was more overpowering, strangely, the kid still smelled like Twinkies. Angel stepped forward, lifting the teen into his arms, carefully holding him bridal style as he started to walk back to the Library.

At first he hadn't paid much attention to Xander, the shadows and the two vampires had obscured his view, but now… He realized the boy was only wearing white boxers and had a few scratches on his chest.

Odd, he thought slowly as he continued to walk, Why would someone take the boy's costume? It was useless now, right?


Sunnydale (Abandoned) Factory
Industrial Shipping Co. 7:26pm

"Aah, bloody porcupine!" Spike screamed as he pulled yet another quill out of his shin. The giant razor-sharp quill looked like a metal rod, stung like a scorpion and nearly brought tears to his eyes. His bright-blond hair was damp with sweat, dripping down his forehead and soaking his bare chest. Even now, the cuts from the quills pulled from his chest healed over. How do vampires even sweat in the first place? We're corpses, we're supposed to be dead! He thought in mild irritation as he pulled the last quill from his aching flesh.

Start'n to think I should have listened to Dru this time, shame I couldn't rip the Slayer apart before that rodent found me. Spike sat on an old beat-up couch, tweezers in hand as he dropped the quill into a nearby metal pan.

The red relic had seen better days, each cushion was lumpy and soiled with small patches of dirt, or alcohol. He and Dru had 'bought' it in the 80's from a very tasty vegan woman in the south. Surprisingly, her blood hadn't been as weird as he thought it would be. It reminded him of cherries mixed with pineapple and aged wine; thinking about that night brought a huge smile to his face. Perhaps he could find one of those for a snack after sunset…

"Spikey?" Drusilla purred from across the room, twisting and twirling in a pale-white dress, eyes like glowing embers hidden behind thick heavy curtains. Spike turned in her direction, watching her 'dance' in amusement.

"Yes, love?" he asked as he abandoned the tweezers in the pan, pushing himself up from the couch and onto his feet. Spike felt the icy floor touch his pale skin, sending barely-perceptible shivers up his spine. The hard tiled floor was covered in a thick layer of dust, which he cared little about. Dru never even noticed. It was dirty with black marks splotched in random places, the stone walls exuded an old 'wine-cellar' look and the factory was lit with dying needle-thin candles all around. Across from the couch sat a telly from the early 60's, quietly drowning in dust like everything else at the moment. There were no windows in this part of the factory, the other rooms had them of course, but they were boarded up leaving candles as the only source of light.

Regardless, all these things combined into a cozy crypt-like atmosphere, which suited the two vampires very well. Adjacent to this 'living room' were three doors, one leading to the factory floor, another to a private office/ kitchen and the last was Drusilla's room.

Focusing his mind away from the scenery, Spike returned his attention to his lover. Her hair whipped and lashed out in different directions, each brown lock moving with her unnatural grace. Skin as pale as snow, her lips were a shocking shade of red, but this only served to deepen her unearthly beauty. She clutched an old china doll in her arms, swishing and swaying to a rhythm only she could hear. Her doll was rugged with age, its 'skin' having seen better days, flowing blond hair intricately weaved into an 18th century fashion and dressed in a billowing green gown with layered white frills.

Drusilla's eyes seemed to glaze over, like she was looking at something from far away. Her face contorted into a myriad of emotions, the most prevalent being some kind of manic joy…

She's having a vision, he thought as he stared at her now-unmoving form. Hopefully it wouldn't be the ones spoken in riddles this time, he hated those. With rapt interest Spike leaned in, watching his Sire in giddy anticipation.

"The Stars sing of the tricky Cobra and his Red army, preparing an ocean of blue blood and forging an Empire. It looks so beautiful with the black tower floating from above. Spike, I want to go see it, Can we go see it?" she asked, coming close to whining, pleading or maybe a mix of both. She set Mrs. Edith down on a nearby wooden table, the doll making a light clinking sound as it slumped against the wall.

Wonderful, it's one of those again, Spike thought as his hope burned away like a paper version of the Hindenburg. Deflated, he sighed and put up a smile. Even though he didn't understand her at times, or most of the time, he still loved her dearly. Still, why she kept nattering on about this Cobra he had no idea.

The part about the blue blood made him think of old royalty, unless, she was talking about demons' blood… Well, he knew some of them actually had blue-colored blood, but then what was this nonsense about a black tower and an empire? Spike knew of only ONE country that had an actual black tower, but he highly doubted the Czech Republic would be looking to expand their tiny plot of land anytime soon. Though it would be amusing if they tried. He laughed quietly to himself, before putting on a straight face as he answered her.

"Sure, pet, what ever you say. We can visit this tower when it's …finished. But first we need to make you better, right? " he whispered in her ear as he came closer, voice soothing and sweet like fresh golden honey. She sighed happily, bobbing her head up and down in quick succession, face shifting into a look of ecstasy as she wrapped her arms around him. If he were human, her hug would have crushed his ribs, turning them to powder.

"Thank you, Spikey, thank you!" she said, voice filling with pleasure and childlike glee as she hugged him tighter, kissing him on the lips. Then all of a sudden, she stepped back, eyes twinkling with innocence like sparkling water. Yet behind that illusion was a monstrosity that burned like the sun, a human would have only seen light-blue eyes.

"Mrs. Edith needs her tea…" she drawled out in a lilting tone, completing her original conversation. Her visions could come at any time during the day or night. But sometimes, like now, they came in the middle of her sentences. It was like someone pressed pause for her, then un-paused her after the vision was complete. Only, when she was 'paused' she remembered everything about it, thankfully it wasn't the kind that sent her into a screeching frenzy. Those, were the bane of his existence.

He nodded an affirmative, thinking she wanted sweet tea like last time. He still cursed Angel for turning her brain into Swiss cheese, regardless of how many centuries it had been, but maybe he could finally find a cure for her in this town… maybe. In a swift motion Spike turned, starting to walk in the direction of the tiny kitchen, his black biker jeans rustling softly as he moved.

"No! no. no, we want the red tea, Spikey," Drusilla asked in a sweet, yet pouty manner. He stopped and looked back as his mouth split into a smirk. She wanted blood? Alright then.

"What kind, Dru? European, German, French or the little things with the big ears?" he asked, emphasizing the 'big ears' with his hands in a Bullwinkle gesture. His fingers wiggled as his thumbs touched his ears, eliciting a small giggle from Drusilla. Unlike some older vampires he was perfectly fine with the current fads of today, the problem was that they changed so frequently that he could barely keep up. Thankfully, stuff from the early 50's seemed to be making a come back.

"German, we want a German child to join us for tea," she said dreamily, no doubt envisioning all sorts of playful fun she could have with a little one. A demented look crossed her face, full of wicked glee. It made Spike shudder, he almost felt sorry for the kid that 'played' with his lovely Drusilla. Almost.

Then he thought about the other times when she wanted blood, her cravings came at odd times of the night or sometimes the day. One moment she'd be right as rain, smiling and innocent like a little girl, the next, as ravenous and single-minded as a black hole. If his love wanted a German for breakfast, then she'd have a German, the best and most bloated of them all. Spike counted his lucky stars as he walked out the door, quickly pecking Dru on the neck before leaving to get their food. At least she doesn't want one during the day this time…


Back in their 'living room' Drusilla looked at her doll, cocking her head to the side as she listened to the Stars and her little doll argue and sing. Edith talked about the little blood-snacks behind the screen, who scrolled down panels of words with a dead mouse. The Stars angrily shot back that certain things should remain untold, unheard.

Drusilla eyed Mrs. Edith like a bird about to peck at its prey, she plucked the doll from the table and held it in her arms, whispering softly in its ear. "Naughty Mrs. Edith! What have I told you about sharing secrets?" In an instant the 'voice' of the doll abruptly stopped, going as quiet as the grave. The Stars sang in the background, less angry, but still fuming as their embers cooled.

Dru smiled, her expression going soft like a loving mother as she stared at her doll. "That's alright, but what to do with them? What to do?" she muttered quietly as she pondered this un-revelation, she already knew about the humans and the strange tellies that they used. She gently tapped the skull of her doll, swaying again and again as she 'danced' back to her room.

Unfortunately, she couldn't touch these humans, the Stars said so and she didn't want the Stars to be angry. Just as she was about to shut her door she turned, spinning around to 'look' in the eyes of the humans behind the screen…

"I see YOU in your room," Drusilla stated with a smile of pleasure as she imagined their eyes going wide. She licked her lips, idly wondering what REAL humans tasted like. Did they taste like bananas, cream, or possibly fresh tuna? She moaned in euphoric happiness as she imagined sucking them dry and observing their spilled entrails.

"Oh well, good night and good morning, my little humans. Maybe we can play another time?" Drusilla asked sweetly, her blue eyes flashing an eerie yellow, before she closed her door with a light creak.