Signed, Sealed, Delivered - XXVI
'Never sell your soul' - Laura Schlessinger
Watched by two pairs of unblinking eyes, the final grain of sand slipped through the twisted neck of the hourglass and landed atop the mound within. Buffy inhaled sharply and her gaze ticked without a pause to Lucy, who pressed the tips of her fingers together and smiled. Her features were illuminated by her evident glee.
"And so what is it to be then, Slayer?" Lucy inquired, tilting her head to one side and appraising Buffy with curious eyes, "would you trade the soul of your lover for that of one of your pathetic band of worshippers and tag-alongs?"
Buffy froze and resisted determinedly against her body's urge to shudder. It was a battle that she soon lost and her resulting tremor only caused Lucy's smile to grow ever wider.
"You can't ask me to do this," Buffy whispered, wiping at her moistening eyes with the back of her hand, "there must be something else… another way…"
"And yet here I am," Lucy replied, her tone even and bored, "asking."
Buffy swallowed hard, all anger having dissipated now this awful moment of decision was upon her. The next words out of her mouth would seal the fate of one whom she loved more dearly than anything in the world, and the weight of the burdens pressing on her shoulders suddenly threatened to crush her.
"Tick tock, Slayer…" Lucy hissed.
x-x-x
Faith swung the axe in a wide arc above her head and grunted in satisfaction moments later as she succeeded in simultaneously decapitating two demons. Their species was one unknown to Faith but in the thick of the battle she refused to allow such trivial matters to bother her. Scrutinising the demons carefully for a second, she stored away a few of the more key details of their appearance for later mention to Giles, who would undoubtedly be thrilled by the prospect of research.
Faith ploughed ahead through the streets, gritting her teeth as she paused in order to drive the blade of the axe into the chest cavity of a Retfrechner demon that had rushed her. The blow dispatched the creature cleanly but only seconds later his attack was resumed by a trio of overly virile vampires. Faith met each of their punches with a kind of grim enjoyment but the Slayer was under no illusions that if the cavalry did not arrive soon, she would be overwhelmed. With all three vampires dusted in under two minutes, Faith raked her fingers through her hair to dispel the ash and moved onward.
Demons now swarmed the streets, pouring like an evil tide from buildings and dark recesses as though the sudden demise of the force-field had encouraged them from their various lairs. Faith was reminded of an angry swarm of wasps smoked from their nest. She shook her head to banish the thought, realising that it was probably not advisable to dwell on her phobias given the current situation.
The silver blade of the axe was almost unrecognisable, coated with the entrails and bodily fluids of over twenty differing species of monster. The thick substance that now decorated the metal was an impressive rainbow of colours. Since crossing the border line Faith had lost count of the number of creatures and atrocities she had been forced to dispatch with her weapon. She did not doubt that Spike and the potentials would also be forced to fight their way towards her and the centre of the city she desired to reach.
Faith emitted a startled cry as she was suddenly seized from behind by a barbed tentacle that dragged her body to the tarmac. Struggling for breath from her position on the ground, Faith peered downwards to examine the puncture wounds that now wound their way across her abdomen. She pressed her palm to one of the shallow holes, wincing as she withdrew bloodied fingers.
"Hey Squidward," Faith yelled hoarsely, her voice a little shaky as pain caught up with her, "wanna dance? My cards free baby."
The demon barked something unintelligible at the Slayer, who rolled onto her knees and then clambered to her feet. She swayed briefly before managing to regroup, momentarily overwhelmed by her fatigue and a series of minor injuries.
Faith examined the creature before her with interest, noting the pinkish sheen of it's skin in the moonlight and the six tentacles that roiled away from it's lumpy body. It almost seemed to glide towards Faith as it employed it's limbs to push itself forward along the moist ground. Left in it's wake was a trail of silver slime that appeared to be throwing off a pungent stench that highly resembled sulphur. Faith squinted, searching the demon's body for a pair of eyes but giving up quickly as she appeared to find none.
With a shrug, Faith launched herself at the monster, her blade slicing through the air.
x-x-x
Lucy examined the crimson scrawl that adorned the scroll of parchment she held stretched out in both hands. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she held her breath for several moments, her head inclined slightly toward the darkened sky. The child appeared to inhale deeply and then the malevolent grin returned to her face.
Buffy watched, sickened, as the child's eyeballs flickered at speed from side to side behind her closed lids before finally and suddenly halting. When Lucy opened her eyes once again, her irises were stained a deep ruby red and her pupils had shrunk to near insignificant black specks.
"And so it is done, Slayer," Lucy growled, her voice now failing to emerge as the countenance of the child she wore should dictate. The demon spoke to Buffy with a tone that dripped pure malice. It's words resonated impressively, sounding more than several octaves lower than the average man and as though they were spoken through a tunnel of some sort. Buffy could not find it within herself to respond with the fear she knew she aught to. She suddenly felt utterly drained, lifeless to the point beyond resurrection.
Buffy cast her eyes ashamedly to the floor, biting her bottom lip in order to prevent the tears falling and betraying her composed visage. She glanced at her right index finger, now weeping a thin trickle of blood from a self inflicted wound, and she felt a stab of self loathing. She knew this was a feeling she should become accustomed to suffering.
"Poor Slayer," Lucy cooed, rolling the scroll up neatly and concealing it within the deep pocket of her pinafore, "all is not lost, yet."
Buffy's eyes narrowed and her head whipped up as she affixed the demon with a piercing stare. The child only chuckled, tossing her head back against the sudden wind that whipped up around them. Lucy's ebony plaits were buffeted into the air by the gale so that they soon stood erect at either side of her head in an almost amusingly ironic manner.
"You are free to go now, Slayer," Lucy called above the howling of the wind and the sudden clap of thunder that shattered Buffy's guilty reverie. With a final smirk she called out, "Insquequo nos opportunus iterum…"
Before Buffy could decipher the meaning behind the words, she was once again falling.
x-x-x
Faith stared up into the wide open maw of the demon that now sported half it's original number of tentacles. This was the fact that would console the Slayer if only a little during her final moments. She was chagrined to say the least that the Watcher's diaries would now include the description of her death by calamari and so she held on to her one small victory to buoy her spirits as the end drew near.
The demon's mouth, positioned on the underside of it's body, stretched into a circle almost large enough to consume Faith's entirety in one gulp. The Slayer peered down the creature's cavernous throat, noting the spiralling lines of jagged teeth inside, and squeezed her eyes shut. In that moment, Faith accepted her fate and chose to embrace it with dignity. She waited for the last unbearable wave of pain to wash over her whilst at the same time enjoying a kind of inner peace that generally alluded her.
When the agony she had anticipated failed to arrive, Faith grew somewhat impatient. She had always visualised for herself a glorious yet brief demise and by toying with her this demon was rather vexingly destroying her aspirations. Opening one eye, the Slayer glanced upward.
With her mouth open in awe Faith observed the body of the demon floating ten feet in the air above her almost as though suspended by invisible strings. The monster writhed and struggled against it's unseen captor for a few more seconds before suddenly it's body began to swell. Sensing the outcome of the situation, Faith flung her hands in front of her face just as the demon's body exploded like a party balloon. With a disgusted groan, Faith shook her hands at the ground, dislodging chunks of pink flesh and droplets of slime from her skin. Although thoroughly grateful for her reprieve, the Slayer was also totally grossed out.
Turning to the right with an air of feigned casualness, Faith smiled as her gaze befell Willow. The witch stood on the opposing side of the street, her arms poker straight at her sides and her hair glowing with an otherworldly white hue. Over her right shoulder a single US soldier stood, his rifle aimed indecisively at Faith. But it was another more sinister sight behind the witch that could not fail to draw the Slayer's attention.
Over a hundred people stood in orderly rows behind Willow; a collection of men, women and children of varying ages who shared similar expressions of bloodthirsty fury. Shaking her head in disbelief, Faith took in their tattered clothing, dirt smeared faces, and generally unkempt appearances. She could vaguely discern the remnants of the odd business suit, school uniform or pair of Levis hanging from their emaciated frames. However, this single fact did little to restore allusions of the humanity that had been driven from them during their six months of imprisonment.
Some clutched sharp rocks in their hands whilst the more capable wielded planks of wood and odd scraps of metal. Even the children had armed themselves and stood in their silent formation regarding the Slayer like a common enemy. Faith guessed that this was all that was left of the population of Los Angeles and, although disconcerted to say the least, she approved of Willow's resourcefulness.
"We needed an army," Willow said as though replying to an unspoken question. Faith simply nodded and retrieved her axe from the ground as Willow called out in a voice brimming with authority, "She's a friend."
The mob did not relax but instead collectively focused their gaze over Faith's shoulder. A sudden cacophony of demonic snarling was a helpful indication of what lay in wait behind the Slayer. With a roar that caused even Faith's heart to grow cold, the now barely human crowd surged forwards and into battle.