22. The labor we delight in physics pain.

"He's dead! He's dead!" Drusilla knelt down on the floor with her head clenched in her hands while she rocked back and forth. "Hush little baby... The sword, the sword..."

Hogan crouched next to her, listening to her whispers. "Is it Newkirk? Drusilla, is Newkirk in danger?"

"They... they come one after the other... one by one... they want to stop him... one by one..."

"We can help them, Drusilla. We can help Spike and Newkirk, but we need to get out of here."

Drusilla began to regain control. She sat back on her heels and giggled. "No exit, they say... But they haven't noticed the crack in the mirror..."

Hogan stared at Drusilla. The vampire was very quiet all of a sudden. He put some distance between them. His only hope was that this would not be the way vampires prepared to attack.

()o()o()

What a way to start the night, Spike thought. He could have gone back to the castle right after the museum fiasco. Instead, he had let this youngster convince him to come along on a scavenger's hunt. As if he did not have enough problems already. All for nothing since that sergeant had just closed the door of the priest's house on his nose. Now, there was nothing else for him to do but stroll on the cemetery. The only good thing was that the oversized sergeant had left his rifle leaning on the wall outside. He would be surprised to see who had it now.

The place was a wreck. The last raid had cracked open tombstones and some mausoleums. Spike decided to take advantage of his exile and check the family crypts. Sometimes, he found interesting things that were still usable or valuable for a trade. He put the rifle on his shoulder and started to walk.

"That's what you get for being nice. For playing by the rules." He pointed at the priest's house with the weapon. "You know what? Sod the rules! The lone wolf is back on the prowl. I don't need any little wanker coming from the East End to tell me wher-" His sentence was cut short when he fell down in an open grave. "Bloody hell!" He stood up and looked around. The place was rather spacious and connected to a mausoleum by a small entrance.

Spike walked inside, reading the names. He looked for the most notable families and found a threshold with the Eichenholz family name on top. It led to another room downstairs. He went down the stairs.

Spike could see through the dark that the place was full of ornaments. There were murals of biblical scenes on the walls and candles everywhere. He also noticed another door at the opposite side. It was not locked, and behind it there were more stairs, going up this time. He followed them and entered the church. The door at the top of the stairs headed directly to the altar. Spike chuckled. He was inside the church but he did not feel threatened. There was only one explanation for that. The place was no longer consecrated.

He walked around. It had been so long since he was allowed to step inside a church. Old memories came to mind. Mother taking little William by the hand, teaching him how to cross himself, how to kneel down... how to pray. Spike shook his head. Those thoughts were nothing but smoke. He was not there to brood about his unholy condition. He loved being a vampire. Nothing would make him regret that at all.

He heard a noise behind yet another door. This one was a modest exit into what he guessed was the priest's house. He came closer and chuckled.

"Someone must be having a party over there."

()o()o()

Newkirk kept his eyes on the sword. Maybe it was the light of the candles, but sometimes, the blade looked red and in flames. He did not want to think what that thing could do to human flesh. Red Sun stared at him with fiery eyes and ran towards him. He raised the sword with both hands and dropped a vertical blow.

Newkirk rolled over and crawled towards a corner. Schultz sprang up instinctively looking for his rifle. He remembered that he had left it at the door to show respect for the holy place. Mr. Jones was on his feet too and ready to run away.

"What's going on here?" Schultz asked. "Who's that man?"

"Take cover!" Newkirk could barely talk while dodging the sword. "Blimey, Schultz, get out of here now!" He crawled and then, ran to one door adjacent to the church. He did not have a real plan, his biggest concern was to keep the red giant away from Schultz and Mr. Jones. As he suspected, the door was locked.

Red Sun walked in his direction. He did not seem in a hurry, as though he had all the time in the world. Newkirk rolled over to put some distance between the giant and the door. Then, he ran back to the door and put a pick in the lock before going to the other side. Every time he came closer, he would rotate the pick as much as he could. He hoped to open the door in two or three movements at most, provided the pick did not break inside the lock. It did not.

Schultz saw him going through the door into the church. Mr. Jones turned to the priest to demand explanations about this stranger attacking so indiscriminately. But there was no one there. Mr. Jones followed Schultz into the church.

Spike watched Newkirk run in with a red giant after him. The vampire laughed.

"By the love of-" he said when Newkirk passed in front of him. "Where did you find Red Sun?"

"What?" Newkirk was getting out of breath. "He followed me here!" He plunged behind some chairs before the giant struck the ground with his sword.

Spike shook his head and climbed up a column to the second deck. He sat on the railing for a better view.

Schultz entered to see Newkirk rolling over the floor, ducking the flaming sword as best he could. The Englishman was in a bad position. He was still running around but he would not be able to do that for much longer. Schultz feared he would stumble on the chairs scattered on the central nave; one little chance for the red giant to get closer and that would be all for Newkirk. The sergeant looked for something that might help the Englishman. The church was wide and old, with big columns of stone,and a massive chandelier in the middle of the ceiling above the nave. There were also statues representing the saints in each corner of the building. But the most significant had to be the archangel Saint Michael on the right side of the altar. One thing got Schultz's attention.

Mr. Jones saw the sergeant at the altar and Newkirk on the ground, crawling his way out of the range of the sword. He did not want to be left behind and went after Schultz.

"What are you looking for?" he asked Schultz.

"The angel," said Schultz. "It has a sword." He knew that it was physically impossible for him to climb and get the weapon. Before he could ask for help, Mr. Jones was already on his way up.

In the meantime, Newkirk had succeeded in keeping the giant away. But his lucky strike was fading quickly.

"I told you, this was not a good night for a stroll."

Schultz turned around. The priest was right behind him. There was something wrong with his face, all pale and deformed, with yellow eyes and long fangs. "Vampir!" The sergeant screamed.

()o()o()

Drusilla paced around the cell, her arms crossed on her chest, her eyes lowered to the ground.

"Sight sorry a say to thought foolish a...," she whispered. "Pictures as but are dead the and sleeping the..."

Hogan felt on the verge of a stroke with this woman. The last hour, she had done nothing else but recite Lady Macbeth's lines backwards. He used to live in a world of logic and rational thinking. All of a sudden, he was sharing a cell with a vampire who happened to be crazy.

Drusilla stopped in the middle of the room and giggled. "Coming is someone."

Two corporals came to the cell. To judge by their fallen faces, they were disappointed.

"Look, Hans, he's still alive."

"I don't know, Fritz. I told you she was acting weird."

"Hey, Fraulein, aren't you hungry this evening?" Fritz asked. "You miss Ihre Liebste? your sweetheart?"

Drusilla looked at them and smiled. "I rather play with my tin soldiers." She came to the door. Her gaze was fastened on them. "Now, my little boys. Would you open this door for me? Come and play in my garden."

Hogan did not even dare to breathe hard. Although the vampire was fascinating, she could be lethally unpredictable. He stayed in his place but ready to move if she turned towards him.

Hans opened the door. He did not know why, there was no logical reason for what he was doing. However, there was nothing else he would rather do than open the door and step inside the cell. Fritz wanted to protest, pull Hans towards him and run away. But he was also drawn inside.

Drusilla kept her gaze on them. She had them both in front of her. She tilted her head and began to rock from side to side in a way that reminded Hogan of the dance of a cobra about to strike. Very slowly, she raised one hand, curving her fingers, and in a quick movement, she slashed Fritz's throat open with her fingernails. Immediately, she turned to Hans and bit him on the neck.

The macabre spectacle did not last long. However, Hogan knew that those images would be haunting him for months to come. Drusilla turned to him, still wearing her game face. But in a matter of seconds, her eyes turned dark brown again. Her expression changed back to the innocent girl playing with invisible toys and she smiled mischievously. "Well, well, I think our guests are ready to leave," she said picking up her tarot cards to put them in her velvet bag.

"I though you were under a spell in here." Hogan frowned suspiciously.

Drusilla smiled. "I was when we got here. But the roses are dying and the talismans are fading. They didn't know that those are temporary remedies," she shrugged.

"But why didn't you try to leave earlier?"

"Silly, how would the Enchanter of Delusion find me if I wasn't here?" She headed for the door.

Hogan followed her from a distance. He took care of picking up one of the weapons from the bodies on the floor. There were no guards nearby, but he could feel danger in the air. On the other hand, Drusilla walked carelessly, humming and dancing. At one point, she stopped.

One man in uniform came towards them. He was alone and when he was close enough he raised his hands. He showed Hogan that his gun was still in his belt. "You don't want to shoot me now, where everybody can hear you." He turned to Drusilla and smiled. "Leaving us so soon, meine Liebe? my love?"

"Captain Grunwald," she whispered his name.

"You've been the one keeping this creature in here? Feeding her with innocent people?" Hogan frowned and kept his pistol aimed towards him.

"And who are you? She didn't touch you at all?" If Grunwald was upset, it did not show.

"Colonel Hogan has been keeping me company, but I told him that it's time to go. Spike needs me." Drusilla smiled.

"Colonel Hogan? What army?"

"Guess," Hogan grinned.

The captain laughed. "Just my luck! Of all the people in this city, my men had to bring an American colonel." He shook his head. "And where are those idiots, anyway."

Hogan sighed. "Guess again."

Grunwald nodded in silence. "Oh, well. They were not of my best. Shall we?" He turned to the hallway. "I'm your prisoner. I'll grant you safe passage."

"You grant us a free pass?" Hogan looked wary. "What is you plan, pal?"

Grunwald smiled coldly. He was playing the last of his game. It was about time to show his superiors that he was right. "I just want to see it. I need to know that it's real." He shrugged. "Without me, you won't make it to the main door. She might be strong and fast, but you're just a man. You'll be dead before she can help you."

"I could help you now." Drusilla turned to Hogan with her mischievous smile. "Two vampires would be invincible."

Hogan shuddered. "Thank you, no, ma'am. I'd rather take the hostage. Start walking, Grunwald. Try anything funny and we'll see who is faster, your men or me."

()o()o()

Although it looked so at first, this church did not feel that big anymore. Newkirk kept running in circles, through the aisles, between the pews, behind the altar. Red Sun seemed to be everywhere.

"Don't you ever get tired?" he shouted at the giant. "Blimey! Why can't we sit and talk? This is maddening!"

"They don't get tired because they're not human," Spike said from the pulpit above Newkirk's head. "He'll still be running after your heart stops from exhaustion."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Shouldn't you be down here helping me out?" Newkirk stopped behind a column.

"Er- They call him Red Sun. That's not compatible with my kind," he shrugged.

The giant swung his sword and broke a chair to splinters. Newkirk gasped and took shelter behind a column. "I dislike you, Spike. I do dislike you!"

"That's the joy of being undead. Few things really get you." He lit a cigarette. A scream from the other side of the church made him turn his head. He laughed. "Case in point."

Newkirk also turned. Schultz was barely keeping the former priest, now a full vampire, away from him and Mr. Jones. The inspector rested for a second before climbing up the last half of Saint Michael's pedestal. The sergeant did his best running around, throwing anything he found in the vampire's path.

"Blimey, Schultz! I told him to get out of here!" Newkirk jumped over a pew and then rolled. But Red Sun was already on his way. "Spike!" He screamed stepping backwards. "You've got to get involved sooner or later, mate!"

"Sorry, I'm still deciding whether I don't care or it's not my business."

Newkirk could not reply. Red Sun was too close. He knew this was danger zone and the next movement could only bring pain.

Schultz turned from the pedestal to find the priest right in front of him. He glanced at the vampire's fist, ready to punch him on the nose. He had no time for ducking or hiding, so he closed his eyes. The blow made noise when it landed but the sergeant did not feel it.

He stepped back and opened his eyes. Spike was between him and the priest. He took the punch and retaliated. There was something odd in the way these vampires fought. Schultz had never seen blows and kicks coming and going so fast and intentionally. Their strength was uncanny. They could send each other against walls and chairs without breaking a sweat. They would stand up or bounce to their feet so gracefully, that it looked like a choreography.

Newkirk was at the other end of the place and had only a few seconds to turn and check on Schultz. The sight of the vampires fighting would have mesmerized him if it were not because there still was a red giant in the middle of the church, looking forward to breaking Newkirk's neck.

Schultz did not let the vampire scare stop him. He had helped Mr. Jones to climb up the pedestal of Saint Michael to fetch the sword. The sergeant kept a grip on the man's ankle for stability but his eyes were on Newkirk.

"Please, Mr. Jones, could you hurry up?"

"I almost have it." Mr. Jones stretched his arms the last centimeters and touched the sword. He had to wrestle against years of rust and dust but finally, the weapon was his. "Are you sure that the corporal can handle it? It's a little heavy."

"He's very resourceful, Mr. Jones. If there is someone at Stalag XIII that knows how to handle a broadsword, it must be Newkirk."

Mr. Jones was surprised to hear such a vote of confidence coming from a German soldier. He gave him the sword. "Wait," he said. "Take this too." With some difficulty, he lifted the archangel's beautiful shield and handed it to Schultz. "Good luck."

The sergeant smiled. He took the sword in his right hand and placed the shield on his left arm. For a moment, he remembered his childhood years when he used to play gladiators with his cousins. He still knew how to put the shield in front and the sword to one side... Suddenly, the priest came to clash on his shield. The impact almost took his breath away. Schultz looked at Spike.

"Sorry, mate. You were on the way."

The British vampire was at the top of his energy, with his game face on. The only thing that caught Schultz's attention were the shiny long fangs smiling at him. He turned to one side and saw the other vampire, game face and all, jumping back to his feet, ready to attack. Instinctively, Schultz took the sword and stabbed him in the chest. He retrieved the weapon, but the vampire did not seem to care much about the pain.

"Was ist los? Why doesn't he die?"*

"The head, you twit! Cut his bloody head off!" Spike ran towards him and pushed the priest forward.

In an impulse of despair, Schultz brandished the sword against the neck of the vampire. The weight of the weapon carried enough force to sever his head. Schultz wanted to close his eyes, anticipating a bloody mess. But instead, he saw the body crumble to ashes in a matter of seconds. He was still shaking when Spike came closer. "What happened?"

"Congratulations, big guy, you just killed your first vampire." Spike wiped the blood of his nose. "That wanker broke my nose." He looked at the sergeant staring at him. "What?"

"You took that blow for me, thank you." Schultz began to see Spike in a new light.

"That's what you think that happened? I was only passing by." Spike shuddered with awkwardness. He pointed at the shield. "Is that for the cockney?" He took it.

"And the sword?"

"Only if you want him to burst in flames," Spike smiled mischievously.

Mr. Jones descended from the pedestal and sat next to Schultz. "That was so intense. I'm going to write that down."

Schultz did not pay attention to him. He was too busy staring at the pile of dust on the floor at his feet. He shook his head. "My wife will never believe me."

tbc

*In Buffyverse, vampires can only be killed with a wooden pointed object through their heart, by exposing them directly to sunlight or cutting their head off.

See you soon...

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