"Corrupt"

Based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Episode "Wild at Heart" Written by Marti Noxon and the Unproduced Angel Script "Corrupt" Written by David Fury

The following story is copyright © 2023 by Mark Moore.

On the UC Sunnydale campus, at night, Buffy ran away from a vampire. They reached a secluded area.

"Thanks for the relocate. I perform better without an audience." Buffy started beating him up. "You were thinking, what, a little helpless coed before bed? You know very well, you eat this late..." She staked him. "You're gonna get heartburn. Get it? Heartburn?"

He fell to the ground and gave no reaction.

"That's it? That's all I get?" Buffy asked. "One lame-ass vamp with no appreciation for my painstakingly-thought-out puns. I don't think the forces of darkness are even trying. I mean...you could make a little effort here, you know? Give me something to work with."

Later, Buffy, Tara, Amy, Harmony, and Sandy were sitting at a table at the Bronze, eating a late dinner of cheeseburgers and fries and drinking Surge.

"The Bronze is more fun this year, isn't it?" Harmony asked.

Buffy smiled. "'Cause of the gloating factor alone, you know? We're all about college now. We've got heady discourse."

Amy looked at her doubtfully. "Right. So if college is so great, what are we doing here, and why is it more fun?"

Tara smiled. "Because the Bronze is nice and familiar. You know, with all the shock of the new, it's nice to have one place that you can come back to where everything's predictable."

Giles walked up to them. "Hello."

"Giles, trouble?" Buffy started to stand up.

"Oh, no, Buffy. Don't get up. No. Nothing like that. No, I just, you know, I thought I'd drop by. Uh, latte, anyone? On me?"

Everyone looked at him in shock.

Buffy looked at Tara. "So much for your predictable theory, babe. Sorry."

Giles rolled his eyes. "Well, don't look that way. I'm - I'm - I'm down with the new music. And I have the albums to prove it."

Buffy smiled mockingly. "Yes, but it's your cutting-edge 8-tracks that keep you ahead of the scene."

Jenny walked over, holding a bottle of beer. "Don't scoff, gang. I've seen Giles' collection. He was an animal in his day."

Giles nodded to her. "Thank you."

"Hey, why not? If the Stones can still keep rolling, why can't Giles?" Buffy asked.

Giles nodded. "Exactly."

Harmony looked at Giles. "I think it's brave that you're here."

"Well, thank you, all. You've made me feel right at home."

Veruca's band, Shy, took the stage. They set up their gear.

Veruca turned on her microphone. "Hey, everybody. All right, on 3. 1, 2, 3."

The band started playing. Sandy was entranced.

"So, girls, got any Thanksgiving plans?" Jenny asked.

Buffy looked at her. "Anne and Faith are picking up Cordy and Katrina, and they're all coming. We're all gonna have dinner at my house."

Sandy was still mesmerized and barely paying attention to anything but Veruca. "They're good, aren't they?"

Tara shrugged. "They're okay."

Buffy yawned. "Yeah. She's a Fiona wannabe. Color me bored."

"Really?" Giles asked. "I think she's rather remarkable. Such presence for someone her age."

The next day, in Professor Walsh's class, she was returning papers. "Ms. Summers...I want you to prepare to lead a discussion group next class on the paper topic. That was smart work."

Buffy was surprised as she received her paper. "What do I have to do?"

"If you have any questions, bring them up with one of the TAs."

Buffy left the class and walked up to Tara.

"Are you okay? How'd you do?" Tara asked her.

Buffy smiled and held up her paper.

Tara smiled. "Great job."

"I know. Can you believe it? And she wants me to lead a discussion group next class." Buffy suddenly frowned. "That means more work, right?"

They started to walk.

"Shouldn't she have a better reward system? You know, like a cookie or a toy surprise like at the dentist?" Buffy asked.

"This is college, not kindergarten." Tara leaned close to Buffy and smiled seductively. "But you can have my cookies later."

Buffy smiled, aroused. "Mmmm..." She kissed Tara on the lips. "Still, I'm gonna pass on the discussion group."

Sandy walked through the outdoor seating area of the cafe. She saw Veruca sitting alone at a table, eating a three triple-patty cheeseburgers and large fries.

Veruca noticed her. "What are you gonna do, sit on the ground? There's room."

Sandy sat down. "Big lunch?"

Veruca shrugged. "I like to eat. I hate chicks who are like 'Does it have dressing on it?'"

"You guys were awesome last night."

"I guess. The set's starting to come together, but the amps still sound dirty to me."

"Hmmm, you oughta talk to Buffy about that. She knows more about amps than me."

Cordelia and Doyle were having dinner at Helen's Kitchen. They were sitting across from each other in a booth. The sun hung low in the sky as late afternoon gave way to evening.

Cordelia chewed and swallowed a piece of her pork chop. "Mmmm! I love having money and being able to eat out again!"

Doyle suddenly sobered. "Uh-oh."

Cordelia looked at him. Doyle's hand clenched into a fist around his Styrofoam cup, hot coffee spilling everywhere.

Cordelia yelped with surprise. "Doyle..."

Doyle's eyes were pinched shut in agony. Then the lids opened, revealing his eyeballs rolled up into his head. "Chrystal." Doyle's breathing began to slow.

"You okay?" Cordelia asked him.

"Me? Fit as a fiddle." Doyle held his head. "A pain-racked fiddle."

Cordelia unzipped her purse and took out a couple of pills. She offered them to him along with her cup of water. "No aspirin. Midol okay?"

Doyle waved her off, then got a flask from inside his coat, uncapped it, and took a swig. "Couldn't they just give me this info with a little self-destructing tape recorder or something?"

"You said 'Chrystal'."

Doyle nodded. "Young chippy. A pro."

"She's in the entertainment industry?"

Doyle gave her a look. "A prostitute. Works out of a sleaze pit called The Bottom Bar."

"Never heard of it."

Faith walked over to them. "I have."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Of course, you have."

Doyle nodded. "Figueroa, just south of 13th Street. Parking's next to the check-cashing place. The booze is a little watered down, but it's still worth it, 'cause some of the ladies there are choice. I mean...they got this one-"

"You saw all that in your vision?" Cordelia asked skeptically.

"Umm...yyyeah." Doyle looked at Faith. "Anyway, this Chrystal chick...you gotta save her."

"From what? Or who?" Faith asked him.

Doyle shrugged. "That's all I got. Save her."

"Can't Angel handle it?" Faith asked.

Cordelia looked at her. "He's handling some demon shit in Pasadena."

"Shit. Okay." Faith looked at Anne. "Anne, cover the rest of my shift, please and spank you."

Anne looked at her and smiled. "I'll hold you to that."

Faith walked toward the front entrance.

"Careful, beor..."

Faith stopped and turned back to face Doyle.

"The girl's walking on the edge of a razor."

Faith nodded slightly, then left.

Faith went home, changed out of her work uniform, and arrived at the club at sunset. A neon sign read "The Bottom". The heavy thumping of the bassline of Nas' "Nastradamus" emanated from within. Faith stood in line, paid the cover, and entered the club.

It was crowded, loud, and smoky. In a rear corner was a small stairwell. Two signs bolted to the wall next to it read "Private" and "Employees Only". Faith walked up to the bar and sat on a stool.

The bartender walked over to her. "What'll it be?"

"Zima." Faith got her fake ID out of her jeans pocket and handed it to him.

The bartender briefly looked at it, returned it to Faith, got out a bottle of Zima, and opened it for her.

Faith picked up the bottle, sipped her drink, leaned back on her stool, and looked toward the rear of the club. A blonde woman, pretty and waifish, emerged from the stairwell, followed by a guy buttoning up and tucking in his shirt tail. The guy mouthed an awkward goodbye, then headed toward the exit as the woman made her way over to a large booth.

Among those seated there were a Latino man with piercings in his ears, nose, and eyebrow and a brawny, bearded biker-pimp. Standing obediently next to him was a young prostitute - dark circles under her eyes, thin and drawn, a streak of fuchsia through her black hair.

The blonde woman leaned in over the Latino's shoulder and discreetly passed him something. He kissed her on the cheek and sent her on her way.

Faith reacted as she suddenly walked toward her, ending up at the bar, a stool away.

"Danny, I'm dying of thirst over here."

Wordlessly, Faith slid her drink in front of her.

The woman glanced at it, then at her. She offered a small smile, picked up the bottle, took a sip, and grimaced. "Yuck."

Faith took the bottle back, indignant. "I like it. It's zomething different."

"Condolences. Danny!"

The bartender set down a shot glass and poured her a shot, which she threw back.

Faith stared at her. "You're Chrystal."

She gave her a looking over. "I know you?"

"Can we go someplace quiet?" Faith asked her.

Chrystal gave her another gentle smile. "Hey, you're a nice looker and all, but I'm kinda on a break. Check back with me later."

The Latino arrived behind her. "That's not the way we treat new friends, Chrystal. Let's be nice to the lady."

"C'mon, Miggie, I just got through-"

Miggie just glared at her, and she shut up.

Miggie looked at Faith. "One hour, one hundred."

Faith hesitated.

"That's a great deal. A sharp-dressed gal like you shouldn't have any trouble affording that."

"I just want to talk to her."

"Ohhh, you just wanna talk. Talking's two-hundred."

Miggie chuckled wryly, then stopped when he noticed Faith holding up three folded hundred-dollar bills.

"Here's three." Faith slapped the money into Miggie's hand. "After she and I are done, she gets a one-hour vacation."

Chrystal squinted at Faith, then at Miggie. The pimp stared at Faith for a moment, then slowly broke out in a grin. He snatched the bills from Faith's hand.

Chrystal opened the door, then stood aside to let Faith enter. She took in the small room: unmade double bed, vanity table, folding chair. Chrystal closed the door.

"He ever hurt you?" Faith asked.

"Who? Miggie? He's not as bad as some. What you might call a necessary evil."

"I've run across evil before. Never once found any to be necessary." Faith casually crossed to the vanity, noticing a small hand mirror on which she could make out remnants of cocaine.

Chrystal squeezed in front of her, quickly intercepted the mirror, and shoved it into a drawer. Then she picked up a plastic kitchen timer and turned the dial. "So what do they call you?"

"I'm Faith."

Chrystal planted the timer on the table, then grabbed the hem of her top and started to pull it up over her head.

"Don't."

Chrystal stopped and looked at her. "Okay. How do you want me?"

"How-"

Chrystal moved toward her. "On the bed? The chair?"

She walked up to her, and her hands went to Faith's chest, rubbing her breasts. Faith let her.

"Or maybe like this? You like to be on your feet. More in control." Chrystal reached around, caressing her back, nuzzling her.

Faith sighed. "You're very good at this."

"Oh, yeah. I'm good at a lot of things. Tell me what you want." Her hands moved lower.

Faith grabbed them and held them in hers. "I want to help you."

Chrystal squinted. "Help me?"

"I think you're in trouble. And maybe you don't know a way out."

Chrystal pulled herself away and stared at her. "But you'll show me the way, right? All I need do is follow the Lord's path, and He'll lead me from this den of the wicked? Damn! Did not have you pegged for one of those crackpots."

"I'm not-"

"Help me? Help yourself. C'mon, we're alone. You didn't blow three bills just to make a sales pitch." Chrystal moved in on her again, touching her arm, her face, grabbing her breasts, putting a hand under her skirt, rubbing her pussy, slipping a finger inside. "Don't you like me? Don't you want to taste the fruit? Or did you come to punish the fallen woman? Is that it? Some little tramp broke your heart, now it's payback-"

"Hey!" Faith yelled sharply.

Chrystal stopped and looked at her.

"Is the taunting extra? 'Cause I'm out of money."

Chrystal gave her a wry smile. "It's complimentary." She crossed to the bed and sat. "What are you doing here?"

Faith took a moment to consider. "Truthfully, I don't know yet."

"Uh-huh. Maybe you should come back when you do."

"By then, it'll be too late."

Chrystal studied her with some trepidation. "Well, now...that is a dilemma."

Faith sensed her alarm. "Look, I'm not trying to be evasive. Or talk in riddles. I just know what it feels like to be trapped. Insulated from the outside world."

Chrystal felt uneasy. "You don't know anything about me."

"That's true. But I can't imagine you ever wanted to end up like this."

Chrystal seemed pensive, lost in thought. "Yeah, well, things don't always end up the way you plan."

Faith sat with her. "Nice thing about plans...you can always make others. Trust me, I know."

"I don't trust anyone."

"Maybe I can help you with that, too. Think it over. If you need me...I'll be around." Faith stood and walked to the door.

"Do yourself a favor...don't be."

Faith looked at her for a moment, when they were both startled by frantic pounding on her door.

"Chrystal! Oh, God! Chrystal!"

Chrystal rushed to the door. "Janie?! What-"

She opened the door, and Janie - the woman with black hair from earlier - ran into her arms, sobbing and shaking.

"Amber. She's - She's dead! Amber's dead."

"Wait, honey. Slow down."

"I heard shit. And I knocked. But she didn't answer. And the door was open, and there was blood everywhere, and she was - oh, God."

Faith stepped forward. "Where?"

Dazed, Janie noticed her for the first time. "Over at the Mercer."

"Show me." Faith gently ushered her out.

Janie looked back at Chrystal. "Chrystal?"

Chrystal followed. "It's okay, Janie. I'm with you."

"Who's she?" Janie asked.

They arrived at the hotel. The walls in the hallway were marred with water stains and peeling wallpaper. Faith, Chrystal, and Janie arrived at a hotel room door.

Janie was still shaking. "There. In there."

Faith noticed the door was slightly ajar. She gestured for Chrystal and Janie to wait and slowly pushed the door open.

The room was dark. Faith reached over and flicked on the light. Her eyes scanned the room as she stepped inside.

Chrystal followed behind her. "Janie?"

"No, I can't..."

Chrystal gently took her hand, and Janie cautiously entered, her eyes wide with shock.

The room was clean - immaculate, in fact: a made bed, polished floor, dust-free furniture.

Janie stepped into the room. "But...she was here. I saw her. Parts of her. And the blood. There was all this blood."

Chrystal comforted her. Janie gasped.

"What the hell's this?" someone asked.

Janie ran to embrace the biker-pimp from Miggie's table at the bar. "Billy! I was looking for you. I - Amber - She's - I mean...I think she's-"

"Amber? Amber's working a job across town. What are you running your mouth off about?"

Faith stared at him. "She said someone was murdered here."

Billy eyed Faith, sizing her up. "She's a junkie. Her brain's scrambled. Who the hell are you?"

"She's with me, Billy. Just a customer."

Billy looked at Chrystal. "Yeah? Then get her outta here." He looked at Faith. "Show's over, friend. Nothing to see."

As Faith exited the room, she came nose to nose with Billy. "Clean room."

Chrystal gestured for Janie to come with her. "Janie?"

Billy stepped between them. "Janie's on the clock. And so are you. Back to work before Miggie finds out."

Faith and Chrystal continued down the hall.

The next morning, Buffy and Sandy were walking down a corridor. Sandy was holding a basket full of laundry.

"Did you move into a dorm?" Buffy asked her.

"No, why?"

Buffy nodded at the basket.

"Laundry machine broke at home. Until Mom gets it fixed or replaced, I'm gonna use the campus laundromat."

"Ah."

Riley and Professor Walsh came walking toward them from the opposite direction.

"It was unbelievable. The fact that I survived at all is a miracle."

Buffy walked up to them. "Excuse me. Ms. Walsh?"

Walsh looked at her. "I hope you're careful when you walk around campus after dark. I was attacked by a wild dog last night."

"A wild dog?"

"Biggest thing I've ever seen. For a moment, I thought it was a gorilla. Did you have a question, Buffy?"

"No. No, I just wanted to tell you that I've decided to pass on leading the group discussion."

"Fine. See you in class."

Buffy was surprised. She and Sandy left.

Sandy looked at Buffy. "You look thoughtful."

"Someone that I knew in high school was a werewolf. When he was transformed, he looked like a big dog...or a gorilla...or Chewbacca."

"You think there's a werewolf on campus?"

"Possibly."

"Maybe talk to that guy. Is he still around?"

"He's dead."

"Oh."

"But it bears looking into...after class."

Sandy walked into the laundromat. Veruca was walking about in lingerie while waiting for her laundry to wash. Sandy noticed cuts and scratches on Veruca's body and salivated at the sight of blood.

"Hey." Sandy set her basket down in front of an empty washer.

Veruca looked at her. "Hey."

Sandy opened the washer and started putting in her laundry. "Rough night?"

"What?"

"I heard there was a wild dog on campus. Did it attack you?"

Veruca hesitated. "No. God! The kids in the dorm need Fashion 101 in a big way." She spied Sandy's thrift store ensemble. "Or we could start right here at home."

Sandy self-consciously looked down at her clothes for a moment, then back at Veruca. "Are you a werewolf?"

"What? No."

Sandy walked over to her. "If you are, I know someone that can help. She has experience in this area."

"Let me guess: Buffy?"

"Yeah. She can probably get you set up with a cage."

Veruca was incredulous. "Cage?"

"Yeah. I don't want you to hurt anybody."

"How considerate of you. I'll pass."

Sandy hesitated for a moment, then she bared her fangs. "I insist."

Veruca smiled. "Well, well. I'm not the only one with a secret." She thought for a moment. "How are you not bursting into flames?"

"Secret."

Veruca chuckled. "Fine. How are you friends with the Slayer?"

"Simple: I don't kill people."

"Do you feed off them, at least?"

"Nope. Animal blood. I carry around vials of it for sudden cravings."

"God! She's domesticated the hell out of you."

"It's my choice."

"Maybe. Or maybe you just don't wanna admit what happened to you. Maybe you just wanna pretend like you're a regular girl."

"Well, I am."

"No, you're a vampire, and this human thing is just an act. You ever think about that, Sandy?" Veruca got closer to her.

Sandy nodded. "I have, but I've come to realize it is possible to live a normal life as a vampire."

Veruca stared at her, unconvinced.

"I'm going. I gotta check the paper, see if you did any damage last night."

"What's your hurry?" Veruca asked flirtatiously.

Sandy stayed still, unsure how to respond.

"We could...do it...right here." Veruca started getting cuddly with her.

"Do it?" Sandy asked nervously.

"Fuck." Veruca snuggled close to her. "I can help you, Sandy. You're scared. I was, too. But then I accepted it. The animal, it's powerful, inside me all the time. Soon, you just start to feel sorry for everybody else, because they don't know what it's like to be as alive as we are. As free."

"Free to kill people?" Sandy asked. "I won't do that. You shouldn't."

"You don't understand. But you will."

Sandy pulled away. "No." She paused in thought. "I'm gonna talk to Buffy. Are you willing to try this?"

Veruca considered. "Sure, I'll play along...for now."

Buffy walked up to Giles' apartment and rang the doorbell. Soon, the door opened. Giles was standing there.

"Buffy. Excellent." Giles stepped aside. "Uh, come in."

Buffy walked into the apartment. "Hi."

Giles walked over to her. "Can I get you anything? Tea? I made a very interesting moussaka last night, if you're hungry."

"Pass on the tea. And the moose, thank you."

"You come on business, I hope?"

Buffy gave him a look. "Yes. Lucky for you, people may be in danger."

Giles was embarrassed. "I only meant, uh, that I'm at the ready. But I'm curious as to why you came to me instead of Jenny."

"You have practical experience with werewolves." Buffy shrugged. "And I'm kinda hoping you still have some of that shit that Tara shot Oz with."

"Phenobarbital. Uh, yes, I believe so." Giles went to a closet and opened it.

"Good. We might need it."

"So there's a werewolf in the area?" Giles asked, bringing the tranquilizer gun back with him.

"Here's the deal. One of my professors said that she was almost attacked by a wild dog last night...under the light of a nearly full moon. I've not seen anything about the attacks in the newspapers or on the news."

"It's a werewolf."

Buffy and Giles turned and looked.

Sandy walked into Giles' apartment. "It's Veruca."

"You're sure?" Buffy asked her.

Sandy nodded. "She admitted it. On the plus side, she's agreed to try the cage thing...for now, anyway."

"Okay..." Buffy paused in thought. "Um, where can we get one?"

The three of them stood in silence for a moment, pondering.

Buffy snapped her fingers. "Angel's mansion on Crawford Street! It's probably just sitting abandoned. Cordy used to chain him up in there."

Sandy raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, you pick up Veruca and bring her there." Buffy took the tranquilizer gun from Giles. "I'll head there right now and get the place ready."

"Are you certain chains will hold her?" Giles asked.

Buffy shrugged. "It's all that we can do on short notice."

"Right. Get right on it. And you report back to me-"

"ASAP. Promise." Buffy turned and headed for the door.

Sandy followed her.

Faith, Cordelia, and Doyle were having dinner at Helen's Kitchen. They got out of their booth.

Doyle looked at Faith. "Hold on, why am I looking after this Chrystal chippy? That's your job."

"Just for a little while, D-Minus. Two people died horribly in that hotel room, and that girl's pimp is covering it up."

"Two people?" Cordelia asked Faith in surprise. "But you said the room was clean. How do you-"

"I could smell the blood."

Cordelia and Doyle shared a look.

"There was a lot of it. Too much for one body."

Doyle looked at Faith. "Well, that's a nifty talent you got there."

Cordelia nodded. "Yeah. Think I'll be throwing up now."

Faith looked at them. "We'll meet back at my place. Anne can loan you her key."

Faith and Doyle headed for the door.

"Hey, what about me?" Cordelia asked.

They stopped and looked at her.

"What's my assignment?" Cordelia asked.

Faith thought for a moment. "You can cover my meal. I blew all my money last night."

"Oh, really?" Anne pointedly asked her as she started clearing their table.

Faith nodded. "Hey, I'll have enough for my half of the rent, don't worry."

Cordelia walked over to Faith. "I think you're forgetting I have skills that could be very valuable in this kind of work."

"You're a whore?" Faith asked her.

Cordelia frowned. "I'm an actress." She smiled somewhat patronizingly.

Faith and Doyle exchanged a look.

Sandy and Veruca walked into the mansion, where Buffy was reinforcing the chains and testing them.

Veruca looked at Sandy. "Ooh, baby. So this is why you called me here? To get me in chains?"

Sandy smiled and shrugged. "We couldn't find a cage on short notice."

Buffy looked at Veruca. "Come here."

Veruca walked up to Buffy. "Right before sunset, I get a little buzzed, you know?"

Buffy frowned. "Save the flirting. I heard about Professor Walsh being chased by a 'wild dog'. You remember anything like that, Ruc?"

"So what if I do?" Veruca asked her.

Buffy was surprised at her attitude. "You, uh, you gonna get naked?"

Veruca smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"Look, you're gonna lose those clothes either way. One way's permanent."

Veruca stripped naked, dropping her clothes on the floor. Buffy gently but firmly pushed Veruca against the wall and took hold of her right hand.

Veruca tried to pull out of Buffy's grasp. "I belong outside."

Buffy cuffed Veruca's hand. "You can't run loose tonight. Or tomorrow night. And not just because you might hurt somebody. I know there are people that hunt werewolves for sport. I've met one. If he hears about you, he'll come right back here. So just lay low, okay? You'll be safe here."

Veruca tried to pull away. Sandy ran over to her, held her in place, bared her fangs, and growled.

Veruca smiled. "There's the animal."

Sandy cuffed Veruca's left hand. Buffy and Sandy took a few steps back.

"It's coming. I feel it. It's like blood boiling." Veruca leaned in towards Sandy, hanging from the chains. "I've wanted you even before I ever saw you. I sensed you. Did you sense me?"

Sandy didn't answer, feeling uncomfortable.

"Did you?" Veruca asked again.

Sandy nodded slightly.

Veruca kissed Sandy on the lips.

Buffy didn't know how she felt about this. "Sandy, c'mon."

Sandy pulled away from Veruca. Veruca violently pulled on the chains, enraged. Sandy turned and left the mansion.

"Struggle all you want. Those chains have held a vampire and a Slayer."

Veruca smiled. "Well, well. You and Sandy got a thing going?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Not me and not her."

"Too bad. A threesome would be fun."

Buffy started to walk off, then stopped and turned to look at her. "I find you while out on patrol tonight, and I'll tranq your ass."

Veruca seductively ran her tongue along her lower lip. "I always love it in my ass."

Buffy turned and left the mansion.

Faith stood in the shadows outside The Bottom. Around the corner of the building, she saw Billy, his arm around Janie's shoulders. She seemed a little dazed and out of it.

"I'm just saying I felt real bad about snapping at you before. So you got a little confused, no excuse for me to talk to you like that."

"It's okay, Billy. I-It seemed so real."

"The important thing is...you like it."

"Like it?" Janie asked, confused.

"The necklace."

"Oh. Yeah, Billy..."

Faith looked closer as Janie's hand went up to a necklace. A round black onyx mounted in the middle of an oval ruby setting was hanging by a silver chain. Bisecting the stone was a jagged line of silver.

"It's so really beautiful. I love it, like, so much."

"You'll always be my number one girl, Janie. You know that, don't you?"

"I know, Billy."

He took out a wad of cash and peeled off a bill. "Get yourself a quick drink. Then head on over to the Mercer. You got a customer heading up in a few."

Janie took the bill. "Okay."

Billy tapped his nose. "If you feel like it, hit the powder room one more time. Help clear your head."

She nodded weakly, then turned and headed into the bar. Billy watched her go, his warm expression evaporating and his eyes narrowing. Billy took off, crossing the street, and Faith followed him.

Inside the club, Chrystal and Miggie were sitting at a nearby booth, drinking with a couple of his pimp pals. Janie, drink in hand, walked over to join them as Miggie and the other men got up to leave.

Janie showed off her necklace to Chrystal. "Nice, huh? Billy said it was real expensive."

"Yeah, nice. How are you doing? You okay?"

Janie nodded. "My mind was playing tricks on me, I guess."

"That what Billy said?"

Janie shrugged.

"Haven't seen Amber around. You?"

Janie felt uneasy. "No."

"Janie, if you want to bunk with me for a couple of days..."

Janie brightened. "Really? Chrys, that would be awesome. But Billy-"

"I'll talk to Billy."

Janie hugged her. "You're the bomb." She got up to leave. "Gotta go. Appointment."

"You be careful, sweetie."

Janie smiled. She and Chrystal exchanged a kiss. Janie left. Chrystal watched her go. Sensing his gaze, Chrystal looked over at Doyle. He attempted to casually avert his eyes - as if he was just looking around.

Chrystal got up and headed toward the restroom.

Cordelia strolled down a sidewalk, her ankles occasionally buckling. She was dressed and made-up like some Hollywood B-movie version of a hooker: feather jacket, leather micro-mini, strapped into high platform pumps, a lot of rouge, and a big blonde wig.

Two prostitutes were standing near a corner, engaged in conversation. One noticed Cordelia and gestured for the other to look.

Cordelia walked over to the two prostitutes. "So...how's tricks, fellow hookers?"

"Who or what the hell are you?" one of them asked.

"I'm Cookie. You've probably never seen me before, since I usually work in a different part of town." Cordelia pointed indiscriminately. "Way, way over there."

"Bitch, if you're living the life, I'm Julia Roberts."

"Well, hello, Julia. 'Cause you're looking at the real deal here, sister."

A car pulled up next to them.

A middle-aged guy in glasses stuck his head out and looked at Cordelia. "Hi, there. I'm looking for a date."

Cordelia frowned. "Ye-ah. Like I'd date a fogy who drives a Dodge Dart. Get real."

The flustered guy drove away.

Cordelia turned back to the prostitutes. "So...hear any good gossip lately?"

Billy approached a closed-up corner drugstore, its double glass doors and windows blacked out with taped-up newspaper. Faith kept her distance, across the street, in the shadows, watching. Billy checked the coast, then took out a set of keys, unlocked the door, and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

Faith stealthily crossed to the store. She studied the doors for a moment, then gave them a gentle tug to confirm they were locked again. She attempted to peer into the store through the crack between the two doors - to no avail.

She considered her next move, then suddenly hesitated. Slowly looking up, she saw, in the darkest corner of the doorway, a tiny red light - a surveillance camera.

Faith reacted as both doors burst open, and she was grabbed by two powerfully-built goons, who yanked her inside.

At the club, Chrystal, wearing Janie's scarf, exited the restroom, sniffing and wiping her nose, then started off for the exit. She passed the bar. "I'm gone, Danny. Take messages."

The outer area of the drugstore was big and open. There were tables and chairs, a pool table, a sofa, a TV, and a fridge (on which sat a security monitor). The walls were covered with pictures of nude women. Six pimps surrounded Faith, wielding baseball bats.

"What are you doing following me? Who are you?" Billy asked her.

Faith looked around at her opposition, taking stock of her situation, considering her reply. She turned back to Billy. "The best waitress at Helen's Kitchen."

The bat-wielding pimps looked blankly at her, then at each other, not really sure how to respond.

Faith shrugged. "Thought I'd give it a shot."

She elbowed one of the pimps behind him in the face as another swung his bat at her. Faith ducked, and the bat took out the already elbowed pimp.

Before she could fend it off, a third pimp slammed Faith in the gut, and she doubled over. The second pimp hit her in the back, sending Faith to the floor as the others rained blows down upon her. As Billy brought down his bat, Faith's hand shot out and grabbed it. Billy tried and failed to pull it out of her grip. Then Faith lifted her head. She was bruised and bloodied but also incredibly angry. The pimps stared at each other, dumbfounded for a beat, then charged her. Faith kicked serious ass with some impressive bat-fu action, much carnage delivered to the bad guys.

While she was dispatching a couple of them, Billy came up behind Faith, wielding an ax. He raised it to strike.

Faith turned and grabbed him by the throat. "We need to have a little talk, Billy."

She squeezed until Billy dropped the ax.

"What - What do you want?" Billy asked in a choked voice.

Faith threw him through a pair of closed double doors into an inner room, then stepped into the room. "Answers."

She stopped when she suddenly noticed the elaborate shrine before her, constructed atop a riser. She saw animal bones, talismans, small effigies, along with empty pint bottles, crack vials, and porn magazines. She scanned the paraphernalia for a moment, then she went wide-eyed with faint recognition when she noticed the wall behind the shrine bore a symbol: a circle within an oval and what looked like a lightning bolt bisecting the circle.

Faith burst through the door of a room at the Mercer and froze in horror at the carnage before her. Blood was splattered across the walls, and a single severed limb was on the floor.

Then, sensing something behind her in the doorway, she whipped around to find Chrystal staring into the room, her eyes agape with horror and revulsion.

Faith went to her to comfort her and block her view. "Don't. Don't look."

Chrystal shoved her back, and Faith saw she was looking at her bruises and bleeding mouth.

"Things aren't what they look like."

With that, Chrystal brought up a revolver, cocked it, and pointed it in Faith's face. Before she could respond, Faith watched her hold up something in her other hand. It was a badge.

"A lot of that going around."

Faith sat stoically at the end of a long table in the interrogation room at the police station. A detective in a suit - his jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up - reclined in a chair by the room's only door.

The door opened, and Chrystal entered the room.

Chrystal glanced at the detective. "Give me five minutes."

The detective eyed Faith for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure, Chrys."

He grabbed his jacket and exited, closing the door behind him.

Chrystal sat down across from Faith. "Try as I might, Ms. Lehane, I couldn't find much on you except for a bit of trouble back in Boston."

Faith smiled mischievously. "That's because I'm a model citizen."

Chrystal leaned across the table. "What the hell were you doing there at the hotel?"

"You know I had nothing to do with it."

"All I know is you're hiding something."

Faith hesitated. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"About Janie. You were close to her, weren't you?"

Chrystal reacted, a wave of emotion rolling over her. "Let's stay on subject-"

"I thought her murder was the subject."

"She was just another poor dumb kid, all alone, who never had a chance."

"She wasn't alone. She had you."

"For all the good that did her."

"How could you have helped her? You can't even help yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know." Faith stood up. "How long have you been undercover?"

Chrystal waited a long moment. "Two years."

"Long time to be living someone else's life, isn't it?"

Chrystal didn't answer.

"I'm sure, when you started, you were immune to the temptations. At first. Then maybe, to protect your cover, you indulged once, twice. No problem. Cross one line, you draw another. Cross that one, draw another. Cross that, draw another...'til it's not even you doing it anymore. It's her. Then it becomes easy. You can do anything. You can't get close to this world and not have it rub off on you."

Chrystal shot to her feet. "Who are you to judge me? Where were you three months ago when the disappearances started, and I couldn't get anyone to listen? I mean, let's face it, nobody gives a fuck about a few missing junkie prostitutes, right?"

Before Faith could respond, Chrystal crossed to the door and opened it.

"Go on. Get out of here."

Faith didn't move.

"You're free to go."

"Chrystal, there are external forces at work here. You don't know what you're dealing-"

"Go. Now."

Reluctantly, Faith stood up. She walked toward the door but stopped next to Chrystal. "When I look at you, I see my mom. She was a junkie. She was a whore. I saw my mom's life slowly deteriorate. Then I saw her die. Get help before it's too late. There's lists of resources in this place, right?" She left the room.

Chrystal closed the door behind her. She pinched her eyes shut, staving off some inner pain. Then, just as quickly and with a deep breath, she shook it off. Composed, she opened the door and exited.

Faith unlocked and opened the door and stepped into her and Anne's small apartment. Anne was still at work.

Doyle sat on the bed, concerned. He jumped up. "I lost her. Chrystal. But it wasn't my fault. She took off, and I was gonna follow her, but something came up. And all I'll say is it's a lucky thing I had a few bills on me, or I might be shy a digit or two-"

Ignoring him, Faith moved to the phone, grabbed a pad and a pen, and began to draw the symbol on the wall above the shrine.

"You know, when you think about it, this is really your fault. I mean...what were you thinking, putting me in charge of her? I'm not cut out-"

Faith grabbed Doyle's sleeve and yanked him over. "Ever see this before?" She tore the page from the pad and handed it to him.

Doyle looked at the paper. "Not ringing any bells."

"Get yourself some new bells. I want to know what that symbol means."

Doyle nodded. "I'll check Angel's library."

Cordelia entered the apartment, still all hookered out. "Ugh, my ankles are killing me!"

"You know what time it is?" Doyle asked her.

"What are you, my father? I was developing my street cred."

"Learn anything helpful?" Faith asked her.

"Never wear these shoes again. And something about ten missing prostitutes."

Faith and Doyle shared a look, surprised and impressed.

Doyle looked at Cordelia. "Well, all right, undercover girl!"

"Ten?" Faith asked her.

"Give or take. According to my new gutter buddies, it's been going on for a few months, but everybody's afraid to talk about it."

"These girls - do you know if they had anything in common? Hair color? Eyes? Same pimp?" Faith asked her.

Cordelia shook her head. "Nothing anyone mentioned. Except...they were all pretty fucked up - druggies, alkies - real both-end candle-burners...pretty much at the end of their wicks."

In the police precinct squad room, Chrystal was sitting at her desk and looking through an open file folder. Clipped to the left-hand side of the folder was a set of mugshots - Janie holding a booking number. Chrystal reached in and pulled out another photo clipped underneath the mugshots, almost obscured by it. It was a yearbook photo of Janie, fresh-faced and smiling. Chrystal stared intently at the photograph, her eyes red and moist. Five other desks were lined up in the room, only a couple occupied.

"You look like hell."

She glanced up to see Detective Lieutenant Gabe Menlo, a paunchy man in his forties, holding a manila envelope. He pulled over a chair and sat.

"What's going on with you, Chrystal? Rumor has it you've been living in the jungle so long, you've gone native. That true?"

"Just trying to do my job."

"Seems more like the job's doing you. You stopped filing reports; you don't check in regularly like you're supposed to. I hear you even interrogated a suspect without another badge present."

"Not a suspect. A material witness."

"Same difference. Any way you look at it, that's some pretty sloppy work."

"Something else you want, Gabe? Are you just here to bust my chops?"

He tossed the envelope onto her desk. She opened it.

"Preliminary forensics report. They found something weird in the blood they got from the dead whore."

Chrystal bristled. "Janie! Her name was Janie!"

Menlo was taken aback by her outburst. "Yeah, okay."

Chrystal considered an apology but opted instead to peruse the report. "What do you mean 'weird'?"

He continued to stare at her until she looked up at him.

"Abnormally high red blood cell count."

"Drug-related?"

"Not any drug I ever heard of. Whatever it was, kinda makes PCP look downright homeopathic."

"What are you talking about?"

"You saw the bodies. This five-foot-nothing girl tore a healthy, grown man to pieces, then disemboweled herself. What the hell can make somebody do that?"

Chrystal went wide-eyed.

Menlo suddenly realized. "You didn't know."

Chrystal fumed. "Sons of bitches. Damn them."

"Don't you get it? It's self-inflicted. We can't touch 'em for murder. We're lucky if they get eight-to-ten. God forbid they get kicked early for good behavior."

In the morning, Buffy and Sandy returned to the mansion. They walked in.

Veruca was standing there, awake, waiting. "What kept you?"

Sandy walked over to her and got out the key to the cuffs. "Sorry, I had to wait for Buffy; she lives on campus; I don't."

"Why not?" Veruca asked her.

Sandy unlocked Veruca's cuffs. "Before I became a daywalker, I felt living at home would help me avoid the sun more."

Veruca rubbed her wrists and looked at Buffy. "Why'd you make her wait for you?"

"Because I don't trust you."

Veruca picked up her clothes and started getting dressed. "What, you think we'd become a monster power couple and team up against you?" Veruca asked her.

"No, I trust Sandy."

"You shouldn't. She's just as much of a beast as me."

Buffy ignored her and turned and left the mansion. Sandy and Veruca followed.

Buffy headed for Tara's scooter. "See you tonight."

Sandy and Veruca headed for Sandy's car.

"Wanna grab breakfast?" Sandy offered.

"They serve burgers this early anywhere?" Veruca asked.

Sandy smiled. "Sure, at Gray's Diner. C'mon."

Veruca sat at the kitchen table and waited as Sandy cooked four hamburger patties in a pan on the stove.

Veruca salivated. "God, those smell good."

Sandy picked up the foam tray that had held the patties and drank the blood from it.

Megan Gray walked into the kitchen and stopped when she saw what her daughter was doing, slightly disgusted. "Ick."

Sandy set the tray back on the counter and gave her mother an embarrassed smile. "Sorry. I thought you wouldn't see that."

Megan looked at Veruca. "Oh, who's this?"

Sandy gestured at Veruca and her mother in turn. "Mom, this is Veruca Moss. Veruca, this is my mom."

"Oh, you're the-"

Veruca smiled. "The lead singer of Shy, yeah."

"I meant werewolf."

Veruca shrugged. "That, too."

Megan looked at her daughter. "Honey, can I see you for a moment?"

Sandy followed her mother into the living room.

Megan looked at her. "Is she dangerous?"

"I don't know yet."

"Well, maybe don't bring her here anymore until you're sure she's not gonna rip our throats out, huh?" Megan requested.

"Yeah, okay."

Megan nodded, then turned and walked away.

Sandy turned and walked back into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Veruca asked.

"Fine." Sandy walked over to the stove and shut off the burner. She picked up the pan, grabbed a spatula, and walked over to the table.

Veruca salivated. "Those look so fucking good."

"They are so fucking good." Sandy slid two burgers each onto their respective plates. "I make a mean burger."

She took the pan and spatula over to the sink and dropped them in, then she went and sat next to Veruca at the table. They picked up their forks and started eating.

"Funny thing about werewolves." Veruca stuck a piece of hamburger into her mouth and started chewing.

Sandy stopped mid-bite and looked at her.

"We have excellent hearing."

Sandy didn't like Veruca's tone but didn't say anything, just resumed eating.

At Angel Investigations, Cordelia was sitting at her desk and using the computer. Faith was standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. Doyle stood nearby. An open ancient book was next to the terminal. Resting atop the left-hand page was Faith's drawing of the shrine's icon. On the right, in the book, was an artist's detailed illustration of same with a caption identifying it as the "Sign of T'Purok".

"Okay, what is it again? Tupac?" Cordelia asked.

Faith sighed. "T'Purok. Capital T - apostrophe - capital P-U-R-"

"Not so fast. Capital T." Cordelia hunted and pecked. "Apostrophe...apostrophe...oh, here it is." She tapped it. "What's after that again?"

"Here. Lemme have a whack." Doyle leaned over her and typed on the keyboard, pretty proficiently.

"How'd you become such a computer whiz?" Faith asked him.

"Three words: downloadable dirty pictures. Shazam."

Faith looked at the screen. "'T'Purok - The Corrupter. From the ancient Babylonian text. Lower demon who preys on the morally depraved, making vessels of those who've fallen deep into the well of corruption.'"

"Sounds like a proxy-inhabitor."

Cordelia looked at Doyle. "A what-y in-what-itor?"

Faith looked at her. "A proxy-inhabitor is a demon who can only experience sensations by possessing a host, usually through transmutory stones or crystals."

Doyle nodded. "Like evil-bad necklaces handed out by willing disciples."

"How do you know all this shit?" Cordelia asked Faith.

"You sound surprised."

"Well, you don't exactly look book-smart."

Faith gave her a dirty look but then softened as memories came to her. "I had a good Watcher."

"Okay, so this thing possesses anyone wearing the necklace, turns her into a crazed homicidal beastie just so it can get its little demon rocks off?" Cordelia asked.

"Not just anyone. It has to be someone who's hit rock bottom. Someone who's lost hope..." Faith came to a realization. "...and thinks she's beyond redemption."

In the late afternoon, Chrystal walked into The Bottom. The place was closed at this hour, empty except for Miggie, behind the bar, going over receipts, when Chrystal entered from the stairwell.

Miggie glanced up and saw her. "Hey, there's my sugar girl. Where you been hiding?"

"You know about Janie."

"Oh. Yeah. Man, that's...a waste is what it is. That john must have been one twisted psycho, huh?" He came around the bar to join her. "I know Billy is just...beside himself. I mean...Janie, right? She was his favorite. Like you're mine." He took out a necklace.

"What is that?"

"Just a little something to help ease the pain."

Chrystal recognized it. "That was Janie's."

Miggie hesitated. "Yeah, that's right. Billy thought you should have it, seeing as how you and she were so tight. I guess he figured she would've wanted that." He moved behind her to fasten the jewelry around her neck. "You know, it takes something like this to make a person take stock. Think about the ones he cares about. I know you haven't been happy lately, babe, but I'm gonna make it up to you. I swear. You still my girl?" Getting no response, he turned her around to face him. "Hey, come on now, are you my girl?"

Chrystal fired her gun, shooting him in the chest. Miggie's eyes went wide with shock, then looked down to see the smoking gun in Chrystal's hand.

Chrystal looked at him numbly, expressionless. "No..."

Miggie collapsed to the floor.

With her free hand, Chrystal yanked the necklace off her throat and threw it down next to his prone form. "I'm not."

Chrystal stood over Miggie's freshly-shot body, reloading the chamber of her gun. She slapped the cylinder back in as a groan emanated from Miggie.

Chrystal pointed her gun at him. "That one didn't kill you. Maybe this one will."

She was about to fire, when, sensing something, she spun around, her gun poised at Faith, standing near the back of the place.

"How did you get in here?" Chrystal asked her.

"The question is...how will you get out?" Faith replied.

Chrystal considered, then stuck her gun in Faith's face. "Any way I have to."

"T'Purok...save me..." Miggie moaned.

Momentarily distracted, Chrystal sensed Faith taking a step toward her. She cocked her pistol, ready to fire, but Faith moved past her and kneeled beside Miggie, checking his pulse.

"Call 911."

Chrystal didn't budge.

"I need to apply pressure to the wound. Call for an ambulance!" Faith yelled.

"He's a murderer. Why are you trying to save him?"

Faith looked up at her. "To keep you from being one. You're better than this. You haven't gone over the edge. Let's keep it that way."

Chrystal hesitated, then shook her head and backed away to the front door. "I have to kill them."

"You interested in killing them or yourself? Because you're not getting out of there alive."

"Joke's on them. I'm already dead." Chrystal exited the club.

Faith sighed in frustration, then looked around and spotted the telephone on the bar.

Buffy and Sandy arrived at the mansion together. They walked inside. It was empty.

"Veruca?" Sandy called.

No response.

"Where is she?" Buffy asked.

Sandy shook her head. "I don't know. I already checked all the usual haunts."

"We have to find Veruca before the sun sets."

Sandy looked at her. "I'm pretty sure I can follow her scent."

"We'll try that, then."

They left to go look for Veruca.

Sandy and Buffy ran through the woods.

"She's near here. I can smell her."

They came upon a pile of clothes in a heap - and no Veruca.

Buffy stared down at the clothes. "Or the dirty pile of clothing she left on the ground."

Sandy tried to be optimistic. "Well, they could be from two nights ago, when she turned into a werewolf."

Buffy looked at her. "Unless she wanted to throw us off the scent."

Buffy and Sandy ran through the forest at top speed. Buffy slammed full force into a burly commando guy. They hit the ground, and their guns went flying. They got up. Buffy picked up her tranquilizer gun and ran after Sandy.

Faith was still tending to the bleeding Miggie.

"Praise, T'Purok. His power is my power. His strength is my strength..."

Anne tentatively entered the club, not seeing them. "Knock, knock."

"Here."

Anne spotted Faith and walked toward her until she saw the badly-wounded Miggie and the accompanying blood. "Whoa."

"Come here."

"That's okay, I can see fine."

"Get over here."

Cringing, Anne made her way over. Faith took her hand, pulled her down to the floor, and pressed it against Miggie's wound.

Anne felt like vomiting. "Oh, shit."

"Paramedics will be here any second. Keep applying pressure until they arrive." Faith moved to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To stop a massacre." Faith took off.

Anne looked down as she continued to stave off Miggie's bleeding. She felt ill. "The shit that Slayers get me into..."

Tara left the library. She started heading back to Stevenson Hall. Suddenly, she noticed Veruca standing nearby.

"Veruca?" Tara asked.

"Get away from me."

"Are you okay?" Tara asked her.

"The sun's almost down. Get away if you know what's good for you."

"You should be chained up. What are you doing?" Tara asked her.

"Being free."

Buffy and Sandy arrived.

Buffy raised her gun and pointed it at Veruca. "Don't touch her."

"Come stop me. I like it rough, remember?"

Buffy fired, hitting Veruca in the neck with a tranquilizer dart. Veruca fell to the ground, unconscious.

Chrystal stood at the entrance to the abandoned drugstore, looking into the camera. She pounded loudly on the front door.

Billy unlocked one of the double doors and opened it a crack. "If you're looking for your man, he's not here, Chrys-"

He stopped when Chrystal stuck the barrel of her gun in his face. Billy stepped back as Chrystal pushed her way in.

"LAPD! Hands high where I can see 'em!" Chrystal looked at the others. "That goes for the rest of you fucking pieces of shit. Get 'em up!"

The pimp-cultists reluctantly complied.

"You're a cop?" Billy asked her.

"Now you're gettin' it. Turn around and face the wall. All of you. Move!"

They did.

"Wait a minute. This bust is bogus. Where's your warrant?" Billy asked.

"I'm not going to arrest you." Chrystal cocked her pistol. "I'm going to kill you."

A goon raised a chair to strike her. Suddenly aware of his presence, she whirled around, narrowly dodging it. The chair knocked the gun out of her hand, and they rushed her.

Chrystal fought back. They got into a mini-tussle. She actually managed to take out a few of them before they overpowered her with their greater numbers. Two goons propped her up as Billy walked over. He eyed her with disdain for a moment, then backhanded her across the face.

Faith was driving Anne's green 1995 Nissan Sentra, pedal to the metal, running lights and generally tearing up the street.

Battered and bloody, Chrystal was thrown against a wall and sunk into the corner. Groggily, she looked up. Billy and the others slowly converged on her.

"So much for the foreplay." Billy raised his hand, holding her gun. "Think I'll start with your feet, then work my way up."

"I...I..." Chrystal weakly whispered, her voice hoarse.

"What's this? Pleading for your life? I like a woman who begs for it." Grinning, Billy moved his ear closer to her.

"I...I'm gonna kill you, Billy."

Irritated, Billy stood and cocked the gun. "Just lie back and relax, bitch. This is gonna hurt." He began to squeeze the trigger.

Suddenly, Faith arrived and threw a silver throwing star, embedding it in Billy's hand, and the gun went flying across the room. Billy howled in pain as he brought up his hand. He turned and found Faith.

"Like that?" Faith asked.

She ran over and started kicking their asses, dominating the fight. Some of the cultists, still smarting from the last beating from Faith, ran away. During the melee, Chrystal spotted her gun on the floor, in the corner, and crawled toward it.

Faith had taken out virtually all of the pimps and had Billy pinned up against a wall, when a shot rang out. Billy cowered as the wall by his head splintered. Faith spun around to find Chrystal on her feet, getting ready to fire her gun again. Faith got between the pimps and the gun.

"Get out of my way, Faith."

"Nah."

Chrystal swung her gun around to point at another cultist. Faith continued to block her aim.

"They deserve to die."

"Big time. But not now. Not by you."

"Why not me?! You don't know me!" Chrystal yelled.

"You're right, I don't. But I've taken more than my fair share of shit." Faith paused in consideration. "I've dealt with denial, anger, feelings of hopelessness."

Chrystal broke down. "It is hopeless!"

"You're wrong. It's a struggle. It's painful. But there's always hope. Believe me...I know a little something about losing yourself."

Chrystal looked at her, wanting to believe, then eyed the pimps cowering behind Faith's protection. "And what about them? They have to pay for Janie and the others."

"They will. But not tonight. There won't be any more killings." Faith threw a glance toward the pimps. "Get out."

Billy and the remaining pimps slunk away. Faith gently took Chrystal's gun from her, and she collapsed onto her shoulder. They walked to the wide-open exit.

"How can you be sure the killings will stop?" Chrystal asked.

"Trust me."

"I don't trust anyone."

"Maybe I can help you with that."

They exited out into the night.

Later, after making sure that Chrystal got to the police station and started talking with someone, Faith swung by her apartment and got a large medieval battle-ax, then returned to the drugstore and entered the inner sanctum. The place was empty and quiet.

Faith purposefully crossed to the shrine. She looked at it for a moment, then, with a sweep of her arm, tossed it aside, sending the various paraphernalia flying.

Below the icon was an old wooden door, termite-ridden and boarded up. Faith raised her foot and kicked it in.

She saw a small storage room as the door virtually disintegrated, and the rotted wood hit the filthy, musty floor, and light from the outside spilled in.

Faith stepped inside and looked around. Empty crates, old dusty bottles, and various other items were littered about. Then she heard a sniveling, wheezy laugh coming from above.

Faith looked up. "Hey, T'Purok."

Above and before her was a large, misshapen demon - with a face and stubby claws - growing out of the corner of the ceiling like a mold.

"That's me all over. First to arrive and last to leave the party. Oh, and what a delicious one this was. Mmmm. Nothing sweeter than corruption; don't you agree, Slayer?"

Faith just glared at him as she gripped the ax.

"Ah, well...all good things must come to an end."

"Bad things, too."

"You think you can make a difference? As long as there are souls - weak, wounded, begging to be perverted - I'm everywhere and eternal. I'll be around when the last of humanity eats itself alive. Oh, it's going to be beautiful!" T'Purok declared.

Faith raised the ax over her head.

"Kill me?! Kill a hundred of me! You are one, where I am a thousand!"

Faith swung the ax. It landed with the sound of T'Purok's head being cleaved in two.

Faith pulled the ax out and eyed the demon's corpse for a moment. "Nine-hundred-ninety-nine to go."

Then she turned, threw the ax over her shoulder, and walked away.

When Veruca came to, she found herself chained up in the mansion, naked. It was morning. Buffy, Sandy, and Tara were standing before her. Veruca struggled to break free from the chain. Tara raised a hand and froze her in place.

Veruca was surprised. "Nice little hex, witch."

"Thank you."

Veruca rolled her eyes. "That wasn't a compliment, retard."

Buffy backhanded Veruca across the face. "You wanna say that again, cunt?"

Veruca looked at Sandy. "You're still helping her with this?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Sandy asked.

"She's blinding you. Admit what you are."

Sandy noticed blood flowing from Veruca's lower lip where Buffy had split it open. She salivated. "You don't wanna find out what I am."

"You're an animal. Animals kill."

Sandy frowned. "Shut up."

Veruca gave her an evil smile. "Maybe I'm wrong. You don't have the teeth."

"You don't know what I have. You don't know anything about me."

"Show me."

Sandy bared her fangs and lunged toward Veruca's face. Tara psychically pushed her back.

"Sandy, control yourself!" Buffy told her. "Don't let her get to you!"

Sandy struggled with her urges.

"You don't know what werewolf blood will do to you!" Buffy told her.

Tara nodded. "And you don't know what a vampire bite will do to her."

Sandy got a vial out of her pocket, opened it, and drank the pig blood. She started to calm down. She looked at Buffy. "What do we do with her?"

"Well, it's Thanksgiving. Cordy, Faith, and the others will be here soon. I say we have a team meeting." Buffy paused. "We'll find a way to help her, Sandy, I promise."

Sandy looked at Veruca, who stared back at her in hatred.