The man pulled his motorcycle to the curb in front of the large brick building that stood less than two blocks from the main buildings of Harvard. After putting down the kick stand, he walked up to the door. The two men guarding the door merely nodded before letting him pass.
He was tall, almost six and a half feet tall. His black hair was unruly, and he often brushed it away from his hazel eyes with his hand. He wore black, as usual. The black leather jacket he wore hung to his knees, hiding what weapons he carried, save for the longsword he strapped to his back when he entered.
He came to a set of large doors with a rising sun emblazoned upon them. Nodding to the two men guarding this door, he pushed it open and walked in.
The room was large, capable of holding at least seven hundred people. At the far end of the room was a raised dais were seven people sat. Behind them was a large tapestry that was dominated by another rising sun.
“Welcome, Michael,” said an old man, his hair completely white.
“I have answered your summons, Seeker,” the black clad man answered.
“Yes, and we thank you,” replied the Seeker. “We have a task of the utmost importance for you.”
Michael said nothing, but by the way his stance shifted, he was curious for more information.
“We have word of a great evil building elsewhere,” the Seeker continued. “We need you to go to Sunnydale, California. There you will find a man named Wesley, who is a Watcher.”
Michael nodded. “Will he have a Slayer with him?”
A woman to the left of the Seeker spoke. “We believe so. What we need you to do is help him.”
The Seeker nodded to the woman. “Thank you.” Turning to Michael, he continued. “ There is a gateway to the lower reaches of Hell in Sunnydale. Aptly named the Hellmouth, this gateway is on the verge of opening. You must stop it, at all costs.”
Michael nodded. “Is Charisma going with me?” he asked.
“We will send her a few days after you,” the Seeker answered. She has work here she must complete.
Michael nodded once. Raising his fist in salute, he turned sharply and walked out the door.
The Seeker sighed once, deeply. Turning to his friends and allies, he said, “I hope that is enough. These are troubled times, my friends. Sending our two strongest warriors is the best we can do. Pray to the gods that it is enough.
*****
Michael sat on his motorcycle on a small rise overlooking the town of Sunnydale. From this height, the town looked peaceful, serene. But to his heightened senses the town stank of evil. A deep, dark evil. Sighing, Michael rode into the town.
He drove for a short time before he found a small, abandoned building. Knowing vampires sought places such as this, he drew his sword with his right hand and a stake with his left as he walked up to the front door.
The inside of the house was in a advanced state of disrepair. Boards had been ripped from the walls to board the windows. The heavy scent of blood hung in the air.
Smiling grimly, Michael mad his way to the basement, knowing that vampires would most likely seek shelter there. Halfway down the stairs, he meet the first vampire.
This one was a short, stocky teenager. His close cropped hair was flaked with dried blood, and his face was twisted by the demon within. Michael thrust the stake forward, ending the vampire’s awareness in a shower of ash.
Michael continued down the stairs slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Four vampires, all covered with dried blood, were slowly shaking the last remainders of sleep. Michael walked among them, his sword flashing three times and jabbing with his stake once. The four vampires burst into dust. Smiling darkly, Michael walked back out into the descending dusk. He had much work to do, and little time to do it.
“Sunnydale,” he said out loud as he climbed onto his bike. “Funny name.”
The Hunter rode off into the night.
*****
A young woman stepped off the bus that stopped just outside the Sunnydale city limits. She was tall, just a few inches shy of six feet, and had an athletic build. Her long auburn hair fell from her head in cascading waves. Her green eyes sparkled with a deep intelligence and strong purpose. She wore clothing that was both casual and stylish. She slung her bag over he shoulder and hefted her staff, which was just a few inches shorter than she.
Smiling, the woman walked deeper into Sunnydale, unconcerned by the impending darkness. She walked with purpose, and to hell with anyone or anything that stood in her way. Little did she know of the other players in this game, other pawns and knights, bishops and rooks. Soon the final moves would be made, and the final offensive complete. One way or the other, there would be a checkmate.