Dust from the last victim drifted onto Buffy's boots. Piles of dead vampire were strewn along the tunnel, leading to her like a macabre trail of bread-crumbs. Torches flickered from their locations on the damp walls. Flames trembled in varying intensities of light, too frail to provide any form of warmth and comfort.
The vampire she originally went after had long since been converted into an immobile and decidedly less offensive form of matter; but she wasn't able to stop and turn back after finishing him. Nope. Chasing other vampires and getting carried away to the point of stupidity, however? No problem.
Somewhere along the way of the pursuit, the formation of rational thought decided to jump out of her head and go on vacation, leaving her with basic, primal urges. The feel of blood pounding through her body. A compulsive desire to hunt down prey, followed by the low kick of satisfaction from each enemy eliminated.
She had been so focused on pursuing and finishing her prey through the nooks and crannies of the twisted vampire lair, she ended up forgetting two important facts.
Don't get lost. And if you do, don't get lost alone. She failed the checklist for both options.
Gloom greeted her in all directions. Her eyes adjusted to the weak light and took in the malign scenery of the catacombs, collapsed brickworks and stained walls. The echo of bloodlust pumping in her system dwindled away, rational thought returning to fill up the gap left.
She found herself starting to regret the whole running off thing. One vampire had led to another, luring her into a frame of mind that felt like an external force possessing her. Or internal. Linked with the voice in her head?
In a way, it whispered. demon energy can be difficult for you pink-skins to use. It's kinda toxic to humans, but your magic men found a way to bind it.
Why does it feel like this for me?
Demonic energy, chaotic in nature, bla-di-bla. Slayer-y types such as yourself can learn to control it.
What happens if I don't?
I… don't really wanna answer that. But it's not good.
Buffy scoffed at the cryptic response. Ignorance is bliss?
In a word. My advice, pretty please learn to control it. Kay?
Kay… Buffy focused back to the matter at hand. One of her intended vampire victims had managed to escape. Admittedly, he succeeded in that difficult feat after Buffy sent him bouncing up and down out of sight down a section of collapsed wall, giving him the opportunity to dash off as near the speed of light as physically possible when more vampires engaged her attention.
Right now, Buffy could sense the remaining vampires and their extreme reluctance to go anywhere near her. They hovered on the edge of her peripheral vision, no doubt loitering for heavy reinforcements, or perhaps just waiting for her to leave the narrow confines, so they wouldn't have to funnel themselves right into her stake.
She examined herself for any injuries. The left sleeve lay in tatters. Parts of her body hurt from being punched and kicked. A purple swelling peeked out from a little tear on her jeans, just below the kneecap. A rib clicked as she breathed deeply. She flexed to pop the bone back into its normal position.
So… you killed quite a bunch of vamps. Impressive.
Thanks, Buffy replied.
You're welcome. The voice paused for a brief moment. So on a scale of one-to-ten, how lost would you say we are?
Buffy rolled her eyes. She mentally outlined ten in her head, then emphasised it with red lines. She circled it afterwards for good measure.
I agree, The Inner Slayer said. Giving into your darker Slayer instincts and going postal is stupid. It makes you do stupid things. Like stupidly get lost in the middle of a lair full of enemies. You're stupid.
Yeah, yeah, I'll learn to control it…
A sharp twang almost took Buffy's breath away, derailing her from the thoughts. The sensation felt akin to a rubber band snapping onto her skin. Just as quickly as it happened, the invisible whip of pain vanished.
That's not good, the Inner Slayer commented.
Random stabs of random pain? When is it ever? Buffy grimaced and tried backtracking, wrinkling her nose at the malodorous smells smeared over the walls.
That's very true. That one you got though, it came from Faith's end. And you did sort of leave her in a bad situation, what with the stupidly separating and all.
Faith! Buffy mouthed the word silently. She picked up her pace, tightening her grip on the stake in her hand. The tunnels sloped lower, twisting off into unfinished pathways and broken brickworks.
She braked at the edge of a drop, where the light from the torches promptly ended. There was no noticeable path leading down. She saw the bottom as a vague slice of darkness.
Her instincts told her to jump down. The Slayer connection tugged at her, persuading her that it was the right way to go. she heard scratching above her; a vampire in a higher level of the labyrinth trying to seek her out. She almost wished he'd find her.
Instead, she plummeted off the ledge like a brick. Her limbs tucked instinctively in the air to brace for the impact of solid ground. Turbulence clawed at her clothes. She landed and did a body roll, feeling the impact on her arm that she knew would turn into a huge, purplish bruise later.
Getting up, she strode a few more paces and ended up hovering over another identical drop. Again, inky blackness mocked her. She had half a mind to turn back and locate the fallen flashlight. She didn't like tumbling down without any clue as to where the fall headed. When you jumped off a cliff, you needed to see where you jumped off to, even if you did it purely for the suicide factor. Sometimes rock bottom had a lot of surprises.
Unbidden, her thoughts plunged into past experiences. Her doomed relationship with Angel. The sight of Faith peeling away from the blade in her stomach and tumbling out of sight, crashing limp into the back of a truck. The things Buffy hated to think about.
Buffy made the next drop in a bid to stop the sinking feeling in her stomach from reaching her feet. The landing barely hurt.
Now was not the time to reflect on the past. But thinking of the present made her recall Riley. Her current boyfriend. At least, current in another reality. In this world, she never even knew him. The worst part of it was that she didn't even mind. A week without him, and already he seemed like background scenery. She hated to admit it to herself, but she'd been waiting for an excuse. An excuse not to care about him. Possibly even to break up. Did this make her a bad person? Was she wrong to feel this way?
She toppled off the last ledge, air assaulting her eyes. The thump jarred her bones and she lurched into a wall, one palm digging into cold marble. Marble? She blinked a little in disorientation.
Little bumps and ridges scrawled across the surface of the sculptured marble. She ran her fingers along it, not quite able to discern what the patterns were or meant. Faith's presence hummed nearby.
She's hurt, the Inner slayer murmured.
Is it bad?
Could be better.
Buffy got the impression that the pretty wall in front was actually a rather intricately designed door. The trick was finding how the hell it operated. Murals were indented into the surface all over. A faint hairline crack rimmed the wall. But there was no keyhole, no hinge, no secret coded combination lock -
The door creaked open, letting in strands of torch-light. Behind the door, a pair of unimpressed dark eyes scowled at her.
"Hi, B…" The amount of contempt woven into one, single letter was astonishing.
Buffy squirmed on the spot. "Oh, hi Faith! Fancy seeing you here and all." She examined the dark Slayer in guilt, each injury on prominent display.
One brownish bruise protruded from underneath Faith's chin, and another discoloured the side of her mouth. Friction marks skidded her clothes and exposed skin. Around Faith's collarbone was a badly applied dressing, almost completely soaked in crimson. The last noticeable injury was a huge blood spot on Faith's thigh. Specks of gravel peppered her jeans.
"Take a good look," Faith snapped, voice brittle and harsh. "Every single one of these could have been stopped if you didn't run the hell off." She vindictively pointed out each area of damage.
Buffy didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Yeah, about that, I'm sor-"
Faith exploded. "You deficient? Are you a fucking moron? Are you? Either one of us coulda been killed when you went to get your rocks off on some vamp! What part of 'stick close' do you not understand? Hell.' Faith hissed the last words, jerking a hand through her hair. Her body trembled, either from pain, or rage, or both.
Knowing Faith from her dimension, Buffy opted for both at the same time. She immediately leapt into defensive mode. "Look, I'm sorry, I really am. I don't know what came over me, I-"
"You don't know what came over you," Faith sneered, silencing Buffy with a soul-shrivelling glare, eyes twin black holes. "Well, I'll tell you what came over you. You lost grip of your Slayer."
Faith prowled until she was mere inches away, hot air heating up Buffy's face, and prodded a finger into Buffy's chest. Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention, but resisted the urge to retaliate, painstakingly reminding herself of Faith's injuries. "It's all good and gone to let off some steam. But you never… lose… control." She enunciated each word, fingers curling into Buffy's jacket.
The words were uncannily similar to what Buffy's own personal advisor, locked up in her head, had hinted at. Down to the stupidity.
"I'm sorry," Buffy tried again, scared to meet the brunette's eyes. Faith was impossibly close, taking up all of Buffy's vision, and maybe one wrong word would send her over the edge, lashing out at Buffy. The dark Slayer closed her eyes.
Buffy flinched when Faith's forehead touched hers, relaxing a little when concluding it wasn't a head-butt. Buffy heard the brunette's heartbeat racing at a faster pace than normal, almost at the same pace as her own. Any moment now, one of them could make a wrong move and it would retreat to blows. The Slayer connection crackled. The array of sensations the connection offered was both addictive and repulsive. Buffy found herself staring at the onyx necklace looped around the dark Slayer's neck as a focus point, confused from the erratic feelings.
Faith licked her lips. "You better be." She released Buffy. "Whatever. Cannot deal with this shit right now." Faith paced with fluctuating anger back into the dimly-lit room.
"W-what's the deal, anyway?" Buffy asked. She ruffled down her jacket so it no longer bunched up at the front. "Isn't it good to let loose on the vampires?"
Faith stiffened. "The wrong kind of people can die," she muttered.
Buffy tched under her breath. "Speaking from experience?"
Faith turned, giving a bitter smile in response. "Take my word for it, twinkie. Don't let the beast loose. Don't let it take you. We done now? You not gonna run off like some fucking loon again?"
"I won't," Buffy retorted hotly. On some sort of masochistic impulse she continued, "I won't make the same mistakes you've done, anyway. You can be sure of that."
Black fury emanated from Faith now. Buffy secretly marvelled at how the brunette was even able to keep a grip on such volatile emotions. Buffy had a real talent for triggering the buttons on Faith's psyche - any Faith, it seemed. She wondered if it simply had to do with the fact that whichever reality she stumbled into, her and Faith were destined to be polar opposites; neither able to get on with the other. It was a glum possibility, and very probable, at least judging by Faith's body language. The brunette's neck vein twitched. Her face appeared impassive, made of stone.
Faith drew in a deep breath, reining in whatever she felt. "Got something to show you," she managed, eventually. "Fell down another way from you, and found something pretty bad."
Buffy filtered the tirade of words flooding her head into one syllable. "Oh?"
"Follow." Faith strode ahead, her long gait very quickly faltering into small steps. Each left step was accompanied by a faint limp.
A little worm of guilt wriggled in Buffy's stomach as she followed. The corridor opened up into a yawning clearing. The entire floor was painted with a sky-blue hexagon and illuminated by dozens of slow burning candles. The edges were inked with navy blue, and each corner had a red circle. An opaque, blood-red crystal stood in the centre, three times as tall as Buffy, five times as wide.
"Already tried breaking it," Faith informed her. "Doesn't seem to like being kicked. G-man and V need to know, cause I ain't got a damn clue what this is. Can't be anything good, though."
Buffy scrutinised the room for signs of disturbance or lurking peril. The flickering candles momentarily enchanted her with their contrast to the underground expanse. "No clue at all?"
Faith tapped her foot in agitated thought, "No, but I'm guessing that girl we saw in the chamber - there's five more just like her scattered around." She pointed out each corner of the hexagonal floor, working along with the idea. "Reckon one of those ends is parallel to her body. This is the centre." She frowned.
The image of a giant spider web threaded through Buffy's consciousness. The image of being stuck fast in the middle accompanied the thought. The bad feeling refused to go away. "You think this has something to do with... whatever it is you have in Sunnydale High?"
Faith banged a fist into her palm. "It's no coincidence. Changeover is soon." She sucked in big gulps of smoky air and coughed. Each cough caused a spasm of pain. Buffy winced to see it happen. She rummaged in her pockets for a spare dressing, fully intending to make sure Faith would not cough or bleed to death in front of her.
"Would you like some dressing? Yours is a little…"
Faith shrugged off the offer impatiently. "It's five by five. Stopped bleeding now, just looks a little worse than is." A rumbling sound punctuated the end of the sentence.
Buffy whipped her head to a wall in the far right corner now rolling open. Something drifted through, trailing shadows. It appeared to float in the air, its form a mesh of atomic particles and gas. Bright green eyes formed on what probably should have been a face. A hidden wind seemed to curl around it. Finally, it cohered into a distinctive type of demon - a black furred minotaur with huge, curling, pockmarked horns on either side of its bull-like head. It stood in the empty air in front of them, shadows swimming gleefully around its cloven hooves.
It stopped and blinked heavily when it noticed them. "Interesting," it began in a clipped, masculine voice. "How did you two get in here?"
"Fell down," Faith supplied.
"Dropped in," Buffy added. She clutched her remaining stake so tightly, that the blood thinned in her hand.
The demon gestured behind him, where a stairwell curled in the inky blackness. "I suppose it didn't occur to either one of you to use the stairs, then?"
"Wasn't aware about them, otherwise I would have," Buffy fired back. Faith rolled her eyes.
The demon smiled grimly, twisting his bovine features into a nightmarish mask. "It's been a while since I've seen a Lightwalker," he continued in his strange, lilting accent. If Buffy had to make a guess, she would have placed the accent belonging to somewhere in Europe. Her knowledge ended there, however - all Europeans sounded the same to her.
An outraged growl echoed in the vaults of Buffy's mind. Be very cautious with this one. He's not your average demon.
I gathered that with the floaty thing. Buffy narrowed her eyes. What the heck does he mean by Lightwalker?
He means us. He's very old, Buffy. Slayers weren't always called Slayers, back then.
"You Lightwalkers look so different, now. Such small, fragile little creatures…" the minotaur mused. He began to drift forward slowly. The candles beneath his feet sputtered out as he floated over them.
"Pretty sure I took one of your boys down the other week," Faith retorted, wearing a nasty grin.
The minotaur regarded her in an almost fond way. "You did, didn't you? I trust you enjoyed the little injury you sustained, as well? From the knife," he clarified, stopping in front of the gargantuan crystal in the centre.
"Didn't kill me." Faith clenched her fists, quivering with suppressed energy.
"Pity," the minotaur said seriously. "That knife was designed for your kind. Wondered why it took so long to heal?" He smirked at her shocked expression.
"I'd say, 'better luck next time,' but that'd be a lie. There won't be a next time," Faith said, regaining control of her emotion.
"Awh, cute. As amusing as it is to chat with you two, I have business to attend to." He reached out huge hands toward the crystal. Faith powered forward aggressively, channelling a leaden fist straight to his jaw.
It sailed through and past. Faith continued her momentum into empty space. The demon tilted his head in amusement as Faith tried to punch again. Buffy sprung at him from behind. Their blows went through him, whispering into air. The shadows coalesced more firmly about him. When Buffy tried once more in vain to kick him, she gasped at the icy cold sensation sweeping through her leg.
She and Faith edged backwards, disturbed. This was an enemy they couldn't hurt. They glared in bewilderment at him.
"It's a pity I can't hurt the pair of you, really," the minotaur said, mournfully. "Being incorporeal has limitations, wouldn't you say? But don't worry. We won't be like this for long." One of the green orbs representing his eyes winked.
"We?" Buffy shivered.
The demon turned his attention back to the crystal, "I'm in a good mood. Use the stairwell behind me - there's a few vampire sentries posted on top, but it's nothing you can't handle, I'm sure. Certainly a lot less than the ones wanting a bite out of you down here." He sighed theatrically. "Vampires are ever so dreary. Gullible, though. I like that about them. Tch." He began to murmur something under his breath in a strange tongue.
Get out.
Buffy could sense a swarm of vampires crawling in the labyrinth. "We better do as the furry man says," she hissed urgently to Faith.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Faith demanded of the demon, and possibly of Buffy as well. The demon ignored them. Faith tried punching him again. He blanked out their efforts, totally immersed in the crystal and the incantation pouring from his lips.
Buffy tugged at Faith's sleeve. "Let's go," she muttered.
Faith gritted her teeth, eyes bulging. A sound of strangled frustration slipped from her mouth, but she relented to Buffy tugging her along to the stairwell. They had no choice, really. The demon clearly wasn't going to respond anytime soon, they couldn't damage anything apart from knocking a few candles over, and they were on a time limit with the clumsy, fumbling auras of the vampires all around the catacombs. They only had so many sun bombs before sheer numbers would drown them beneath an avalanche of pain.
The steps of the ascent were deep and punishing. The stairwell was more suited to crawling or climbing rather than actual stepping. Twice Buffy had to wait for Faith.
Whatever front or bravado Faith put on, the injuries took their toll out of her body. The wound that had apparently stopped bleeding soaked more blood into the dressing.
Faith was not okay.
Best to focus on getting out for now, the Inner Slayer gently reminded.
The climb took hours. Most likely it took only a few minutes, but it felt like hours to Buffy. Having to stop to watch Faith crawl up with fierce concentration dragged out the moments into an monotonous drip of seconds. Buffy knew that if she even offered to help rest Faith on her shoulder for support, Faith would snap at her or feign the state of her well-being.
Buffy reached the top and immediately went headfirst into battle-mode with the two waiting sentries. Growling, she slammed Guard One into a wooden door. The door frame splintered and crunched under their combined weight, or Buffy's weight as her vampire became slightly less alive than he normally was. Unfortunately the impact had jammed her stake fast. To her dismay, the stake crumbled along with her fallen foe. She whirled and tackled the other with her bare hands, delivering sharp, neat blows until his eyes rolled back, unconscious.
Faith emerged, clinging onto the last step as she watched Buffy stake the vampire with a broken off piece of doorframe. Faith wiped the sweat off her glistening brow. "Coulda saved me one."
"Too slow, Faithy. I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mr. Big Pile of Dust."
"Don't let it get to your head." Faith levered herself off the final step of the depressingly long stairwell.
Shouts of alarm resonated through the gap in the wall where there had previously been a wooden, oaken door. Buffy's vision began to mist over at the sight of ten or more vampires clustered into one place. Tiny beams of moonlight filtered into the room via cracks in the ceiling. They were just a few feet away from the surface.
Blood sprayed onto Buffy's face as she slashed at one vampire randomly. The victimised female vampire sprawled on the floor, wailing in pain. Buffy's instincts frothed and twitched inside her, screaming for release. Chaotic energy surged through her.
The other nine functioning foes boxed Buffy in. Faith barrelled into the fray with a roar, sending them scattering like bowling pins. Buffy snarled her appreciation and engaged in a execution of fury and primal power. The urge to resist the pull was too weak, the desire to fight too strong. She let her beast out of the cage and tore into the swathe of vampires like a forest fire, indiscriminately doling out pain. Picking the vampires off proved ridiculously easy - they all honed in on Faith. Predators liked to go for the weakest link in the chain; it made it all the more simpler to convert them into a smattering of atoms. Faith lagged, but her leaden fists and boots still packed a bone-breaking blow with every strike.
The last vampire crumbled into dust, but Buffy didn't - couldn't - switch out of it just yet. More vampires swarmed below her in the earth, just itching to get themselves killed. Her visceral mind lost all sense of reason. She wasn't behind the wheel anymore.
Faith grasped her by the shoulder. "Snap out of it, Buffy. It's over."
A choked growl came out of Buffy's teeth.
"Fucking hell," Faith swore in alarm, jerking her hand away as if electrocuted.
Buffy lunged at Faith. Faith blocked the first punch, using her quick reflexes to dodge the next few. The brunette rapidly searched Buffy's eyes, looking for a kernel of rationality in the mess of instincts propelling her on.
Buffy moved her free arm in a blinding hook. Faith ducked, expression hardening.
She grabbed Buffy by the wrist like a snake-bite before twisting and thrusting the arm upwards. If the move worked, Buffy would be crippled in a painful lock, unable to do anything. The slightest amount of pressure would send spikes of pain through every nerve.
Before Faith consolidated the hold, Buffy swivelled and launched Faith flying through the air. Faith curled and broke the fall with a roll, letting out a grunt. Buffy honed in on Faith's main injury like a shark. Faith deflected the blow before it made contact with her collarbone and staggered backwards from the force of the attack.
Faith's eyes widened from the sheer strength of Buffy's assault. Buffy snarled again and whipped her body into a spinning kick. Faith ducked into a crawl to avoid the deadly steel-cap boots. She grabbed the outstretched leg and slammed Buffy face first into the floor. Buffy got up, grinning maniacally. Her nose bled like a faulty tap. The liquid dribbled over her exposed teeth and chin. Faith's trepidation fast solidified into fear. Faith ducked and defended, the fear visibly increasing on her face and in her scent as Buffy showed no mercy in any of her attacks. She pushed on inexorably, relentlessly, seeking to deal damage with each action and reaction.
The dark Slayer knew she was fighting for her life. She thrashed out like a cornered animal, breath hissing in frantic gasps. Buffy kept up the assault, knowing her opponent wouldn't be able to block the punishing array of strikes for much longer. She could feel the shake of muscle with every hit.
Buffy held the offensive position, giving no room whatsoever to retaliate back. She dropped her shoulder to deliver a piston punch. She used too much power in the strike, though - giving Faith an opening. The brunette pounced on the opportunity and rammed her knee squarely into Buffy's stomach. Instantly, Buffy doubled over, her exposed neck rewarded with a karate chop.
She must have blacked out for a second - she couldn't remember hitting the ground again - rolling and leaping upright, straight into a waiting Faith who grabbed and choke-slammed her back to the floor. If it had been anyone else, their neck would have broken. The back of Buffy's head throbbed and she saw stars. Faith straddled her and squeezed tighter about her throat. She felt her spinal cord straining under Faith's fingers, the jugular vein pumping out painful ticks of blood, her windpipe buckling under the pressure.
Through the haze, she repeatedly punched Faith's bloody dressing, warm thick liquid bubbling onto her fist. It took six blows before Faith let go of the grip, clamping her hands over her wound, completely bereft of the ability to speak. Agony paralysed her vocal cords.
Buffy coughed, bucked and kicked to send Faith stumbling and cavorting uselessly. The brunette offered no resistance, crippled by exhaustion and mind-numbing pain. Buffy landed blow after blow onto the defenceless Slayer, the smell of victory igniting her brain.
She felt one of Faith's ribs break under the force of a kick. Faith lumbered on like a drunk, eyes glazed and unfocused.
Buffy crouched and rammed into her, the momentum flinging the brunette a short distance through the air. Faith smacked the wall. A sickening crack penetrated the violence, and she collapsed onto the floor like a heavy stone, unmoving.
Buffy went for her again.
A noise stirred in her head as though muffled by glass and thick walls. It looped with increasing urgency as she neared the fallen Slayer. Finally it burst through in a howl of noise:
Stop! Buffy! Stop!
Buffy stopped. The fog abruptly lifted from her mind as the Inner Slayer restored her sanity. The killing urge evaporated into thin air. The Inner Slayer was right about the energy. This was a different kind of animal altogether. Something deep. Something dark, an evil saturating her veins and possessing her.
Her knees buckled and hit the ground, limbs icing over as horror permeated. She stared at Faith's prone form. Blood smeared everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, all over Faith's clothes. Buffy reached a hand towards the fallen Slayer. Blood. Blood on her hands.
A whimper of distress escaped Buffy's throat.