September 16th, around midnight
He rose from the remains of his most recent kill, the rush of adrenilen still humming in his viens. a slow grin spread across his angular features. This one had put up quite a fight before the final blow was landed. He ran a hand through his lenghtening black hair as he considered this town. Sunnydale. Such a name didn’t strike fear into the hearts of men, but rather exuded a certain sense of...peace. But Sunnydale was built on top of a Hellmouth. Go figure.
The angry screeching of wheels snapped the man out of his thoughts. A battered car took a sharp turn of two wheels and continued on. He was afforded only a glance at the occupants. A dark-haired man in the back, and a young girl in the passengers seat. The driver was a blond man, thin and...vaguely familiar.
“Spike,” he ground out through clenched teeth. He pulled on his long black coat as he straddled his motorcycle. Firing the igninton, he sped off after the car.
As he sped off, a pack of small men with canine features padded down the street. One stopped and sniffed the air carefully. Yipping softly, the pack continued it’s pursuit.
Spike’s car
Xander glanced out the back window, scanning the road behind the racing car.
“I don’t see them,” he reported. “I think we lost them.”
The blond haired man behind the wheel snickered. “I guess they didn’t want a piece of old William the Bloody.” Alyssa, sitting in the passenger seat, raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” was all she replied.
“So, Spike,” Xander began. “What the hell are you doing back! I staked you! You were a pile of dust bunnies!”
“I bet I was a cute pile,” Spike said sarcastically. “Where the hell are we going?”
“Take a left,” Alyssa said quietly. When Spike yanked the wheel and the car rode on only two wheels, the slayer inhaled sharply and fumbled for the seatbelt.
“Anyways,” Spike said. “I was sittin’ in hell, which is a bloody awful place, being hot and painful and all. All of a sudden, these doorways started opening to the world, causing all this bloody ruckus.” Spikes’s driving was as reckless as ever. He hit a few parked cars and almost ran into a telephone pole, but otherwise was making good time. “When all of these demons started walking through, I decided to sneak back here.”
“That answers that,” Xander said slowly as he pointed out the next turn. “But why are you helping us?”
“Well,” Spike said. “I was helping this cute thing here, and you just happened to be with her.”
“Talk about me like that again,” Alyssa growled, “And I’ll break your throat.”
“At least she has some fire,” Spike muttered.
“Just pull over two blocks up,” Xander said, trying to hide a rueful grin, but failing utterly.
Willow’s house, moments later
Wesley was sitting at the table in the kitchen, totally engrossed in the tome before him, when he heard the front door open. He recognized two of the voices. One belonged to his slayer, and the other was the Harris boy. But the third, the one with the english accent, wasn’t. Something about the voice tugged at the back of his mind, but the Watcher dissmissed it.
He rose and walked to the door, Willow walking in behind him. Willow let out a small squeak, and Wesley felt the fear clutch his heart, cold and brutal.
“Spike...?” came the strangled gasp from the Watcher’s throat.
“Aw, stop yer quivering,” Spike spat. “If I wanted you dead, I would have bloody well done it already.”
“Besides,” Alyssa said. “He isn’t a vampire.”
“Yes he is!” Willow stammered out. “He’s tried to kill me before!” A strange look came over her face. “Didn’t Xander....”
“Yea, I did.” Xander stated, quite proud. “He went poof.”
“Thanks for bloody reminding me,” Spike grumbled as he collapsed on the couch.
“Why...how....” Willow said, shaking her head in an effort to clear it.
“I walked through a portal,” Spike said. “It was quite easy. But when I came through, the demon inside me didn’t want to return.” Spike stared at the ceiling for a moment, his eyes unfocused. “It hurt. Alot. I wasn’t sure what would happen. I passed out on the other side. When I woke up, I was lying, in the sun, by the rubble of the school.”
“Let me get this straight,” Wesly said. “You got out of hell?”
“Isn’t that what I just said!” Spike roar. Shaking his head, he added, “You Watchers. Always missing the bloody obvious.”
“You don't seem much different,” Xander said.
Spike raised his eyebrow and was about to retort when a man wearing a long black coat entered. “I don’t believe you were invited, mate,” he sneered.
“William the Bloody,” the man said. He stood about two inches taller than Xander, and wieghed maybe twenty pounds more. His dark hair was a little long and unkempt, his hazel eyes sharp and cold. A swordhilt peeked from above the man’s right shoulder, and by the looks of him, other weapons were concealed about his person.
“Aye,” Spike responded. “Who’s bloody asking?”
The man looked around at the others. “Do you know what he is?”
“Was,” Spike corrected, a smug look on his face. “I ain’t a vampire anymore, mate. Hell, I wasn’t invited in, same as you.”
The man raised one eyebrow and his stance relaxed. “Do you have any proof?”
“Here,” Xander said, tossing Spike a cross. Spike caught it easily and held it.
“Good enough for you, mate?”
“For now,” the man said.
“Now it’s your turn to answer some questions,” Xander said, his hand straying to his sword hilt.
The man nodded. “I’m Michael,” he said in introduction. “I’ve been called the Hunter. I hunt vampires, demons, were-creatures, and other spawns of evil.” He looked at Wesley for a moment, the looked at Alyssa. “So, the Council still sends little girls into the fray. I had hopped they changed.”
“What do you know about the Council?” Wesley asked quickly, ignoring Willow’s startled glance.
Shrugging, the man replied, “I’ve run into some of them before. Some of them have tried to tell me what I could and couldn’t do.”
“I see. And the Slayer?” Wesley continued, intrigued.
“Just stories,” Michael replied. “Some demons ask about her, fear her even. I never knew why.”
During the disscussion, Xander had walked over to the door and was looking out into the night. For some reason, Sunnydale had grown quiet. It was unnatural, Xander knew. He didn’t know why, and that didn’t sit well with him.
By this time the disscussion had turned to Willow. She calmly told Michael a little about herself.
“I’m Willow,” she said, smiling and extending her hand. When Michael took it in his own, she said, “I’ve lived in Sunnydale all my life. I’ve recently tried to help cut back the bad and evil.”
“You practice magic,” Michael stated.
“Well, yes, but,” Willow stammered, trying to find a way around his accusation.
“Relax,” he said. “I can sense things like that. I can usually tell what kind of spells as well, or the intent at least.”
“Oh,” Willow said, in a small voice.
“That’s Xander,” Willow said, pointing.
Michael walked over to Xander. “Why do you fight them?” he asked Xander.
“I have to,” was all Xander said. “You?”
“First,” Michael began, “it was for vengance. But then it became a quest for humanity.”
Xander nodded, and was about to say more, when the two of them heard a soft yipping noise comming from the bushes before the house. Suddenly tense, both men stood silent. When answering yips came from all sides of the house, they both moved back inside. Xander threw the deadbolt on the door, hoping to buy some time.
“We’re going to have some company,” Michael said, drawing his sword with his right hand and a silver dagger with his left.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Spike whined, pushing himself up from the couch. Alyssa readied a stake while Wesley pulled a long dagger from the sheath on his right calf. Willow’s hands dropped to the pouches that hung from her belt.
Xander’s blade barely cleared the sheath when the three windows in the room burst inward. Small beings with rust covered fur, small white horns, and canine faces swarmed into the house. The wielded a variety of weapons, ranging from spiked clubs to small swords. They ran around randomly, attacking whatever stood before them.
Xander found himself fending off three of the little creatures. Two wielded small axes, while the third wielded a curving sword. Their scent hung heavily in the air, resembling a wet dog. Almost gagging, he swung his sword in short, tight arcs. The little things jumped back and tried to rush him, but the back swing sent them scrambling again.
Alyssa wasn’t doing so well. The two on her had managed to cut her a few times, and the one across her left thigh was hindering her. Her stake wasn’t the weapon of choice for this time of fight, so she tried to avoid the creatures while her eyes searched out a new weapon.
Willow muttered a few words and made arcane symbols with her hands. When she finished, the air around her crackled with electrical energy. The first thing that attacked her, wielding a short club, she touched with her left hand. The release of energy sent the unlucky being flying into a wall five feet away. The others standing around her backed away in fear as the body fell to the floor, smoking, but Willow ignored them. She closed her eyes and began another incantation.
Spike had killed one of the creatures with his bare hands, snapping his neck effortlessly. Now he wielded the small mace the creature was carrying, battering the two hapless things before him. His face was split by a huge grin as he cracked the skull of the first one.
Wesley had his back to a wall, and was fending off one of the creatures, this one wielding a sword. His dagger was wet with the creature’s blood, and his jacket was torn in a few places. Michael moved fluidly through the room, killing the small creatures effortlessly. His sword and dagger were dripping with blood and gore when the seventh creature fell to his blades. The fight was dying down when a scream broke the silence. Spike turned from his latest kill to see Alyssa crumble to the ground as one of the creatures pulled his sword from her stomach. “You’re going to pay for that,” Spike growled as he leapt at the creature. The mace connected twice, solidly, causing the creature to fall to the ground. Spike brought the mace down on the creatures head, splitting it open.
Xander drew his sword from the body of the third creature. His left leg was pretty badly cut, and there was a small gash across his abdomen, but he would live. He looked towards Willow just as she she unleashed her next spell, which caused five points of light to spring from her fingers and bury themselves into a creature on the far end of the room. The creature howled once and died. Wesley waved his thanks and leaned against the wall.
All was quiet. The five of them who remained upright caught their breaths for a moment. Spike raised his head and spoke.
“We’ve got a problem,” Spike said, gesturing to Aylssa’s prone form. Wesley let out a small cry and rushed over to her with tears in his eyes. He tried to staunch the bloodflow with his hands, but succeeded only in covering his hands with blood.
“We’ve got to get her to a hospital!” he cried, his depiration evitent in his voice.
Xander shook his head and walked over to them. Falling to his knees, he pushed Wesley’s hands away. Closing his eyes, Xander streched his hands over the wound, letting them rest just a hair above her flesh. “What do you think...” Wesley began before he noticed the soft blue glow surrounding Xander’s hands.
The whole room remained silent as Xander continued. The bloodflow slowed, then stopped. Then the flesh began to mend itself.
“How did you do that?” Wesley asked him in a small voice.
“I’m not really sure,” Xander said as he rose. “But it’s part of why I still fight.”
Michael and Spike busied themselves by tossing the corpses outside, while Willow went to the back room and gathered some of her things. Wesley still knelt beside Alyssa, who was slowly regaining conscienceness.
Xander closed his eyes and listened to the voices of the demons trapped within him. Part of his duty was to contain the evil essences of these demons, keeping them from returning and continuing their campeign of terror. The voices were clamoring, an insane asylum within his mind. They seemed to be saying the same thing, some in different languages. It took him a moment to understand why they were so afraid. Then, he finally understood. The Binder of Hell, the seeker of Darkness! The stealer of souls, the corrupter of hearts! The Mage of the Twilight, the Twilight of Man! The bringer of Death, the fifth Rider of Doom!
Shaking his head and muting the voices, Xander stood as Spike and Michael tossed the last of the bodies from the room.
“Something is...affecting the demon population here,” Xander said. He looked to Michael, expecting a question from him. The Hunter stood quiet, however, content to see were this would lead.
“I knew something would happen here, because the sheer power of the hell mouth would have an effect on anyone evil akin to...” Wesley began.
“Oh, sod off,” Spike spat out as he helped Alyssa to her feet. Michael and Oz chuckled, while Willow giggled. “Oh, it’s just not fair,” Wesley whined.
Meanwhile, at Buffy’s Lair
Buffy tossed the remains of one of the Council’s assasins into the corner, where he joined the corpses of his three friends. All had been strong fighters, and gave her a good workout. There blood was thin, and left her unsatisfied. Sighing, Buffy walked over to the edge of the pool.
She was surprised to see a man standing behind a pillar in the cavern. He was short, but was still a good half foot taller than herself. With dark hair and clear blue eyes, he could have been called handsome, but the air of evil he carried with him dispelled any such thoughts. Except from the Slayer-turned-Vampire.
“I could kill you,” Buffy said as she sauntered over to him. The black leather she wore cling to her body like a second skin, a sharp contrast to her once sun-kissed hair.
“You won’t,” the man said, a small grin spreading across his face. “You can’t, not here, not now.”
Buffy smirked in amusement. She was close to him now, his light breathing stirring her hair. Running her fingers up his chest and on his shoulder, she asked, “Tell me why?”
Chuckling, the man brushed a strand of hair from her face with his left hand. “I am Sarim, the Mage of Twilight. Together, we will cause the world to tremble.”
Buffy listened, intrigued.