Bad Blood: Part Three

BAD BLOOD  
  
A 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' story P.J.Dickinson  
  
Part Three  
  
  
  
"Well you want to go out, Cause its raining and blowing.  
  
But you can't go out, Cause your roots are showing.  
  
Dye them black. Black Number One"  
  
  
  
Black No.1  
  
Type O Negative  
  
Prologue: London  
  
1976  
  
The house was in a run down area of Spittalfields. It was weevil ridden and damp but it fitted their purposes beautifully. The houses on either side were abandoned and this allowed Chris and Baz to jam whenever they pleased. Lemmy Kilminster, bassist for the psychedelic band Hawkwind was a regular in the Drunken Duck just two streets up and could always be relied upon to have a few groupies tagging along with him who would invariably be carrying killer weed. Mama LaForce, London's preeminent witchdoctor and Jazz's great aunt lived just ten minutes away on the tube. It was perfectly located, at the center of the web.  
  
Giles favorite shop, Baba Yaga's apothecary, a music and magic shop which was also a cover for the local pirate radio station, SNOG AM was only a few minutes walk downhill. It looked across at Sir Christopher Wren's most baroque construction, Gotterstun Spire; the haunted church in which Sir William Withey Gull was buried. Freemason and surgeon to the Royal family during the nineteenth century, Gull was the man most likely to have carried out the series of murders attributed to Jack the Ripper. When leaving the shop Giles could never resist the temptation to step within the churches cold and draughty interior and simply breathe in the mystery.  
  
He loved Spittalfields; it was London in its purest form. It was both frightening and violent and yet homely and terribly, terribly English. Just not the sort of England foreigners would immediately think of. This was the England of myth and legend, a place where the past and present shared the same space without disagreement. Heroin addicts sprawled against statues of Bodicea the Celtic warrior queen as well as statues of Jesus on the crucifix. But the Christhead had little influence here. The raw magic of the ancient island of Albion permeated this part of London much like its famed fog. Its choking fingers coiled around the buildings like the World Dragon that Merlin had once tricked into imbuing Excalibur with its power. Pubs in this part of London had strange evocative names such as 'Apollo's Harp' and 'The Worms breath'. Stray dogs ran from butchers shops with chains of sausages in their mouths as if in a child's storybook and large, homeless men who seemed to have antlers growing form their heads could be seen in fog shrouded alleys, staring sadly at walls, as if remembering a different, simpler time.  
  
Roaming the streets with a joint between his lips Giles was almost able to feel the presence of the fleeing Atlanteans who had settled here and called the new land Lyonesse. This was his home, he wanted to die here. Be buried beside Gull and have ghosts visit his grave.  
  
*** ***  
  
"Wah-Hey! Ripper is home."  
  
"What you get us man?"  
  
Giles swept his long hair from his forehead and tossed it back out of his eyes. He opened a shopping bag and peered inside it.  
  
"Lobster thermidore epiverts marinated in Buckfast and served in a white wine sauce garnished with Swedish truffles so fresh they still have pig snot on them with a delicate red Merlot to accompany said feast."  
  
Chris and Baz looked at each other.  
  
"What you really get us man?" said Baz.  
  
"Did you get baked beans?" chanced Chris.  
  
"Sorry," said Giles, "No beans. Problem at the Heinz factory."  
  
Giles crossed the room in front of them and entered the kitchen. Calling this room a kitchen was a joke. It was whiter than other rooms in the house and had a sink that worked but using that classification it could just have easily been a bathroom. In fact that may have been closer to the mark. Giles set the shopping bag on a stable part of a counter and took out a loaf of sliced white bread, some Lincoln bangers and two jumbo tins of Heinz baked beans. He stepped back into the main room with the tins of baked beans held aloft and was greeted with two 'Wah-Heys' and four fists punched into the air. His stoner housemates were always easily pleased.  
  
He went back into the kitchen and after arranging as many slices of bread as he could around the bangers under the grill poured the beans into a large pot on the hob and added lashings of Worcester sauce. He stuffed the rubbish out the top of the kitchen window and let it settle on the rest of the accumulated debris that filled the small yard to the level of the windowsill.  
  
He went back into the TV room and perched himself on the back of his favorite chair. Coronation Street was just starting. He watched the black and white screen for a few minutes. Baz and Chris were sharing a stringy joint.  
  
"That Deirdre Barlow is a vixen." Said Baz around hissing tokes. "She wants me."  
  
"She's ganky," offered Chris. "I wouldn't touch her with yours."  
  
"I suppose you prefer that biffer Bette."  
  
"You know I do mate."  
  
"Ugly fat tart."  
  
"I don't care. I'd let her do dirty things in my underpants."  
  
"I meant you."  
  
And so the puerile conversation continued. Hour after hour, night after night it was always the same. Giles loved it. He rarely joined in but he laughed out loud often as the two idiots verbally sparred in words of two syllables or less.  
  
"Can I scrounge a rollie?" asked Giles during the Ad break. Chris threw him a Golden Virginia tin and Giles took it with him as he went to check on the dinner. He rolled a thin cigarette in between stirs of the beans and thought about how much his life had changed over the past six months.  
  
This time last year he had been in the Classics library of Cambridge University pouring through Plato's 'Sophocles' as part of his love stories course when he had raised his head and looked about him as if with new eyes. He hated this life. He was bored beyond belief. He looked at all the other students, furiously scribbling in notebooks with their shoulders hunched over and their heads in books and he realized that he was different. This is not who he wanted to be. He wanted music and beer and women and noise, not this useless silence. He had shut the book with a muffled thud that had echoed throughout the musty building, allowed his chair to scrape loudly against the floor and had left without a backwards glance.  
  
Giles had dropped out of the University shortly after his twentieth birthday and much to his parent's shock had packed a small bag and left for the bright lights of the countries capital. There, while standing on street corners throwing his long hair about in an effort to look cool he had met Kit. She had had beautiful dark hair with streaks of blue and red throughout it and the sexiest ass he had ever seen in his life. They had started sleeping together almost immediately. Punk had the center of the city in its anemic chokehold at this time and it was always easy to find a squat to doss down in and have sex.  
  
It was around this time that Giles met Chris. He had been introduced to him one night at a party. He was a friend of one of Kit's acquaintances and Giles was told that the boy was a bit different. It had taken Giles thirty seconds to work out what it was about Chris that set him apart. He was a psychic, or as Baz insisted on pronouncing it 'physic'.  
  
Where Chris went Baz was never far behind and the four of them started hanging about. After a few weeks the group decided to look for somewhere more permanent to live. When Giles had found the house in Spittalfields he had instantly known that it was their home. Life had then settled into a pleasant routine revolving around nights in the Duck and mornings taking turns to vomit in the bathroom. After about two months Giles relationship with Kit had begun to deteriorate. It had been based entirely on sex and Giles began to believe that Kit was too wild a spirit to be satisfied with just one man. She began to go on long drinking binges which became longer and more crazed. Giles realized that a line had been crossed when she returned from a four-day bender with dashes tattooed around her neck and the words 'Cut Here' across her windpipe. She had left that night and Giles and the lads had not seen her since.  
  
In truth they were glad to see her go. They were young and wanted to play. After Kit's departure the partying in Spittalfields had moved up a couple of notches as the lads cut loose with complete abandonment and a glorious disregard for the consequences. The following months had born witness to debaucheries that would have left Bacchus himself in need of a detoxification clinic. It was during this period of mayhem that they had met Ethan.  
  
*** ***  
  
They had been in the Duck one night. It may have been nighttime; well chances were it was at night. It was difficult to tell with the Duck. Normal licensing laws didn't seem to apply to it and the windows were so encrusted with fliers that sunlight needed a visa to gain entry.  
  
Liverpool were playing an important match and a large crowd had gathered to watch the 'pool. Chris was a huge fan and had dragged them all out, not that they had needed much encouragement. Lemmy was in his usual spot at the bar high as a kite and telling stories just as colorful. He had a couple of groupies with him though one of them seemed more interested in Giles than the rock star. Giles was playing it cool.  
  
Deadly Dave, an occasional drinking accomplice and a serious vendor of illegal substances was with them and he and Baz were deep in conversation about different film stars they wanted to shag and the positions they would do them in. Chris was not his usual bubbly self. He had had a bad feeling about the match and his premonition was proving itself to be accurate. The 'pool were three goals down. At half time he got up from the table with his scarf around his head like a turban and wobbled out of the bar to get some portions of chips to cheer himself up before the second half.  
  
Giles was surveying the bar, pretending not to notice that the groupie was watching him. A young man caught his attention. He was dressed in a spiky black leather jacket, which would have looked mean on most people, but on him it just looked wrong. His hair was too short and neat and he was wearing gray, recently pressed slacks. He moved through the pub and made his way to the bar. Pigment the barman took his order quickly, which surprised Giles because usually he would make a square wait until he could be bothered to lower himself to serve them. Pigment set his order on the counter and accepted the note that the youth handed him. It was a five- pound note, Giles could tell by its blue color.  
  
Then while Pigments back was turned as he worked the cash register the youth took a large silver talisman from one pocket of the coat waved it through the air in front of him and then slipped it into a different pocket. Pigment turned back to hand him his change and Giles started in his seat. The change included a couple of twenty pound notes. The youth thanked him, pocketed the money and took his drinks back to his seat. Giles couldn't believe what he had seen. No one else in the bar seemed to have noticed.  
  
Chris returned from the chippy with a portion of greasy spuds for Giles but he was no longer paying attention to anything happening at his own table. He was watching the youth on the other side of the bar. Time and time again throughout the night the young man pulled the same stunt; giving Pigment a fiver and raking in a couple of twenties after swiping the talisman. Smiling politely the whole time.  
  
Midnight had come and gone and the day changed name when an angry and very drunk Giles levered himself up from the table and decided to confront the pseudo-punk. He was furious, not because this was his local that the stranger was ripping off but rather because he had shown Giles up to be small time.  
  
They had been supporting themselves for the past few months on Chris' psychic abilities but this guy had lifted more in one night than all three of them did in a week. Every Saturday morning they would congregate in the TV room and put their business hats on. The TV would be changed to the racing channel, the radio would be switched on for live commentary and they would surround themselves with the sports sections of all that days papers.  
  
Chris would sit in front of the goggle box and whenever he had a strong feeling about a team, a boxer or a horse they would mark it off in the papers. They would all take turns at nominating winners. Chris had a sure shot ability but tired quickly. Giles used a pendulum to dowse his winners and got more right than the odds allowed and Baz was simply horrendous. He nominated winners through a process of elimination. He would choose a horse that he believed had a chance of winning. The other two would tell him to forget it and choose another. This would continue until Baz had only one remaining horse that he believed didn't stand a chance in Hell of even getting past the starting post which Chris and Giles would then back heavily.  
  
At lunchtime they would order three taxis and leave individually to place the bets. It was very important that they weren't seen too often or won too much in one place or they would be marked by the London bookies and their easy life would come to an end, as well as the ability to use their knees. Saturday afternoon they would congregate in an agreed watering hole, get the beers in and watch the winnings start to roll in. Saturday nights were always great in Spittalfields.  
  
Giles staggered over to the other side of the pub and almost collided with the youth who was on his way to the bar for another round.  
  
"Hey," slurred Giles putting a hand in his chest. "Whast ur gime?"  
  
The youth just smiled up at him, innocent as an angel.  
  
Giles tried to say that he had been watching him and that his game was up. Giles knew what he was up to and was on to his scam and was giving him ten seconds to up camp and get out of town or he, a Drunken Duck regular, was going to use the full power that this credential allowed him to see that the youth got the beating of his life. And that his coat was crap. What came out was closer to,  
  
"Hrmm guupppp mmmnnn nnn fugging crap."  
  
He shook his head in an effort to organize his thoughts and engage his mouth. The groupie took that moment to slide a hand across his shoulder and bump his hip with hers.  
  
"Hey sweetie. I've been watching you. Wanna play?"  
  
"Hhrrrggghhh guff kak?"  
  
Ethan touched her forehead with his little finger, the nail of which was painted black and said, "You have crabs. They itch terribly."  
  
Immediately the blood ran out of her face and one hand went to her crotch. She squirmed, her 'sweetie' forgotten and dashed for the toilets. Ethan pulled a small silver vial from his slacks pocket and handed it to Giles.  
  
"Here. This will help."  
  
Giles took swift chug from it and with the immediacy of a slap was sober. Ethan took the vial back and smiled.  
  
"I'm Ethan. I'm a bit of a bastard but you'll get used to me."  
  
"Ripper," said Giles shaking his hand, too shocked to say much else.  
  
"I'm going to be a great sorcerer one day. Want to come along for the ride?"  
  
Giles simply nodded. That had been four months ago and the ride was still only starting.  
  
*** ***  
  
Giles piled the toast on the plates as high as he dared, ladled on loads of spicy beans and garnished the three plates with the sausages. He presented the meals to a round of heart felt applause and accepted a joint as his prize for being 'Britain's bestest baked bean burner'. He sat in his normal seat and toked on the ganja just to set him up for his dinner.  
  
"So what's the plan for tonight lads?"  
  
"The Duck." Suggested Baz. "We could drink cider just to make it different."  
  
Giles shook his head; somehow the Duck wasn't going to cut it this night.  
  
"Or there's the Limelight."  
  
"Slimeshite." Corrected Chris.  
  
"Right Slimeshite. Mucous Membrane are playing tonight and Valerie will be there." The last part of this sentence became singsongish and was directed at Giles. Giles had absolutely no idea who Valerie was as he refused to set foot in the Slimeshite without having consumed at least two bottles of Buckfast. This meant that he had no memory of any of the occasions he had been there. Baz assured him that Valerie was after some 'upper-class action'. Giles had been burned by the whole Kit incident and now considered himself to be a choosy man. But Kit had been gone a third of a year now and Giles self enforced cold turkey was beginning to get to him.  
  
"She good looking?"  
  
"I'd do her."  
  
Giles looked to Chris knowing that Baz could not be trusted to know what the truth was let alone what it might actually be. Chris pulled a face and shook his head. That settled it for Giles. Valerie was a no-go.  
  
"So what are we going to do tonight?"  
  
Baz shrugged.  
  
"Watch TV?"  
  
Giles slumped. He suddenly felt very down.  
  
"I have an idea," said Chris wiping bean juice from the corner of his mouth.  
  
"This should be good," said Baz without much enthusiasm.  
  
Chris gave him the two-fingered salute. Baz gave him three fingers back, which didn't really exist except in Baz and Chris's world where three were more insulting than two. Chris replied with four and suddenly the finger confrontation escalated. They dropped their forks as they rushed to get to all ten fingers up in the air before the other.  
  
"Lads. Lads. Calm down. Chris what were you going to say?"  
  
"Tell him to stop."  
  
Baz was leaning back in his chair with his feet up and the toes obviously wiggling in his boots.  
  
"Baz pack it in or I'll give you both twenty one." The two idiots thought about this for a moment then began to laugh.  
  
"Good one man."  
  
"Twenty two," said Chris sticking out his tongue.  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"Go on." said Giles. "What was your idea?"  
  
"Well. I haven't thought this through completely so it might be a bit crazy but how's about this for a plan? I suggest we finish our delectable dinners, drop the plates at our asses and sally forth with all due haste to the Duck where we attempt to consume more beer than is commonly regarded to be humanly possible. About ten we give Deadly Dave a phone and get him to bring some class A's to the gathering. When he arrives we go into the bogs and do as much coke as is required to sort ourselves out. Then we phone taxis to take us to the Marquee club where Black Sabbath are playing tonight. As we wait for the said transport I recommend we drop the acid which Deadly has kindly donated. If my calculations are correct we should be munted by the time the Sabs come on for their encore. Then we hustle in a brisk fashion to the Regency for the end of the nurses disco where we endeavor to cram as many of those hussies into taxis as we can, head back to Spittalfields and start to get seriously wasted."  
  
Giles and Baz looked at each other.  
  
"By Jove," said Giles.  
  
"I think she's got it," said Baz finishing the quote.  
  
"It's a plan."  
  
"A bleeding battle plan."  
  
"Worthy of Wellington."  
  
"I don't even know what munted means," said Chris.  
  
The door opened and Ethan walked in with Olivia in tow. He was carrying a bag from Baba Yagas.  
  
"I heard all that," he said, "And you can forget it. Tonight we do some magic. Some real magic."  
  
*** ***  
  
The front room on the first floor in Spittalfields was the biggest in the hovel. It spanned the width of the house and belonged to Ethan. It had bare twisted wooden floorboards that seemed to have their own weather system blowing through them. Ethan had attached a black curtain to the roof with thumbtacks and it screened his mattress from sight. No one had any idea what else he might have had behind there. They were very rarely invited into his sanctuary.  
  
Giles sat cross-legged against a wall under one of the boarded windows smoking a rollie and watched the proceedings. Ethan had draped a purple robe over his shoulders and was sitting at a chalk circle on the floor. He had a Wampyr bestiary open on the floor before him. Giles had not known that Baba Yaga's carried such hardcore literature. He had been quite happy with their selection of Colin Wilson books.  
  
Baz was on his knees leaning over the circle as he lit the candles that Ethan had around the room, Giles wondered whether they had any actual significance or whether they were just for show. This was his first actual spell. Ethan and Olivia had been spending a lot of time in the room over the past two months and said they were spending their time in contact with ethereal spirits but Giles had his own ideas about what they got up to. Since he had first met him Giles had seen precious little of Ethan's professed abilities and was beginning to put the occurrences of that night in the Duck down to the amount of alcohol he had consumed.  
  
Baz finished lighting the candles and sat down near Giles. He gave Giles a thin smile and shrugged. Giles nodded back. Whether Ethan was sorcerer or not he had a strange effect on people and Baz became unusually tame in his company. Chris was sitting opposite Ethan with a worried expression on his face. He was staring at the book Ethan was reading from and his eyes moved, not in the normal fashion of someone following sentences but rather as if the contents of the pages were moving in a fashion only he could see. Dancing in a world that only Chris had access to.  
  
The bedroom door opened and Olivia came in. She had a bottle of Buckfast in one hand and a small brown bag in the other that Ethan had sent her to her aunts to get. She set the bag beside Ethan but he was immersed in his preparations and ignored her presence. She sat down beside Giles with a small shy smile. Baz leered at Giles behind her back making hand movements that indicated the size of her breasts. Giles glared at him and he stopped clowning for a while.  
  
She offered Giles the bottle of tonic wine and Giles accepted it and took a short drink of the thin alcohol. It was rank but somehow that fitted the occasion. He handed it back. He and Olivia had never really talked. She always hung about with Ethan but she was always making doe eyes at Giles. His young ego had taken her lack of conversation with him as a sign of attraction. Giles thought that Ethan's girl fancied him more than she fancied Ethan. He handed the bottle back.  
  
Ethan turned to a new page in the book and Chris moaned. His eyes closed and he began to rock slightly. Baz gave Giles a look but it was Giles turn to shrug.  
  
"I've been meaning to ask you," said Olivia into Giles ear. Giles felt a sudden wave of goose flesh cover his arms that surprised him. She had a beautiful 'proper' London accent and her breath was warm and moist against his ear lobes. She was leaning very close into him.  
  
"Why does everyone call you Ripper? It doesn't really seem you."  
  
Giles couldn't stop a blush creeping up his face. She really was an attractive woman. He suddenly realized that he was very jealous of Ethan.  
  
Baz butted in, he had overheard the question.  
  
"Its cause when you need a play list the Ripper's the man to get it for you."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know, a play list. The sheet of paper that a band sticks to the monitors on stage so the singer knows what song they're going to play next."  
  
Olivia looked back at Giles and there was a strange expression on her face. To Giles it was almost post-coital.  
  
"See we were at this Pistols gig and we were all bollixed and there was a lot of talk in the pub before about who was going to get the play list from Rotten. Those things are worth a lot of money in the right circles. So anyway at the end Johnny holds up his list teasing the crowd and he's about to tear it up so nobody gets it and from out of nowhere the drunkest man in the planet rips it out of his hands and stage dives into the crowd."  
  
Baz jerked a thumb in Giles direction.  
  
"Ripper. Get him drunk enough and he'll get you whatever play list you want. It's a gift."  
  
Olivia nodded.  
  
"I thought it might be for another reason,' she said to herself but for everyone to hear.  
  
Baz went back to leering behind her back so only Giles could see.  
  
"Lets begin." Said Ethan suddenly.  
  
*** ***  
  
They all shuffled closer to the circle. Chris was on Ethan's right, Olivia on his left. Giles was beside her and then came Baz.  
  
"Join hands." Ordered Ethan. Surprisingly Baz didn't complain about having to hold the hands of two other men. They all joined and almost immediately the temperature of the room changed. Giles shivered and could feel Baz doing the same. Ethan began the spell.  
  
"At this time we gather to call upon the spirit of the ancient and awful hunter the Wampyr. Demon of the shadows, listen to our plea and engage our souls with your vaulted essence."  
  
Ethan's eyes rolled back in his head showing only whites.  
  
"Give to us this day a glimpse of your majesty so that we may spread your beautiful and terrible glory to all the ignorant in your domain. Let us be your unholy disciples. As the Jew sent his own vessels amongst the flock send us into the world to claim it as your own. Bless us if it so pleases you. Show us your spirit. Reveal to your children how lowly and reviled we possesseth of souls truly are."  
  
A surge passed through the human circle. Their hands seemed to fuse and Giles felt himself drop as if he had slid into the floor or the world had risen up around him. The room seemed to grow darker and the candles wicked slower, undulating rather than quickly flickering. Chris's lips were forming silent words from the bestiary. Ethan continued.  
  
"Gastis-Konos. Errigus. Teppes. Von Richter. Your lineage is known and adored by all assembled in worship. Show us your spirit. Show your adored and hated spawn the depth of your dark light. I command ye to obey this lowly vessel. Find us to be your sustenance and feed us with poison. Let the phlegm from your throat be as manna for a thousand of our young."  
  
"Ethan?" hissed Giles. "Stop. It's too strong. We have to go slower."  
  
Chris's chanting grew louder and more fevered. Giles recognized the language and it chilled him to the core of his being. It was one of the lost languages. During his teen years he had on occasion secretly removed some of his mothers tomes from her personal library and taken them to quiet places where he had adsorbed their contents without her knowledge. He knew of his connection to the ancient order of Watchers through his mother's bloodline. After University she had wanted him to follow her into the council. His move to London had struck her like an icicle through the heart.  
  
Ethan ignored Giles plea and continued with his devotions. On Chris's face a honey like fluid began to flow like sweat. He was unaware of the secretion; tied in knots by the rapture. Giles tried to pull away, tried to break the circle but his body was not his to command. They were under the thrall of another force.  
  
'Dawnrazor!" Ethan suddenly roared. "I implore thee. Reveal your birth into this world so that we may rejoice."  
  
In the air before them a dark shadow began to swirl. Faces appeared in its center. They wore expressions of tormented damnation and screamed in Giles soul. He became aware of a single consciousness at the core of the apparition. It had no name as would be understood by corporeal mortals. Its presence was terrible and overwhelming. The closest Giles could come to naming it was to describe it as a sensation; a burning hunger. The presence was an unquenchable pain in his abdomen. This was horror personified and he couldn't stop himself from whimpering, partly from the horrendous pain of a predator's stomach that was not full of prey. This demon would never stop. The more it spread its hunger the hungrier it would become.  
  
He felt lost. He was completely detached from the group; alone on a savanna, far away from the protection of the trees. Somewhere in the shoulder high grass there was something hunting him. It was coming closer. Tearing towards him with death in its eyes. He was running, running as every man runs from their mortality, running as the first man to be taken down by this predator had run.  
  
Suddenly it was upon him and its ferocity was beyond the design of nature. Ethan had summoned the first spirit that had come to earth and claimed the first human. It was black and fast and terribly inhuman. It sprang at him from the cover and he allowed it to take him for now, in death, his life made sense. It was completed. He saw himself for the animal he was; the animal all humans are. The Pnarwaidh lived to feed. It lived to propagate and spread a hunger that could never be satiated while humanity lived on earth. Giles could feel its teeth piercing his body, could feel the demon spill his fluids and drain his soul. It had its first taste of human and it changed. Began to adapt, to take on this new form in order to make its prey easier to hunt.  
  
The pain became worse as its desire to maim and kill was added to his own desire to live. The two did not cancel out; they were both base and primitive wants. They had the same source in the universe. He was staring up into the bright sun beating down on the savanna and its rays seared his retinas and slowly he drifted away as the changing demon finished feeding and moved into the darkness that surrounded his death. Sun was life. The vampire's new shape feared the sun. Giles died as the first man had died. A twisted monkey in the middle of a vast continent.  
  
Giles jerked forwards with a shout. Olivia fell against him. They were back in Spittalfields, if they had ever left the cruddy room. Ethan gave Giles the biggest shit eating grin Giles had ever seen and Giles had to admit he was impressed. The experience didn't seem to have fazed Ethan in the slightest.  
  
"I was expecting Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. That was way cooler." He said.  
  
"How did you break the spell?"  
  
"I didn't. Numb-nuts here did."  
  
Giles looked about the group. Chris was wiping the sticky ectoplasm from his face and onto his 'Van DerGraph Generator' T-shirt. He seemed to be back to normal. Baz however was on his hands and knees and leaning over the chalk circle with one arm outstretched. His face was as white as a nun's inner thigh and he was shaking as if petrified out of his mind. He had clearly wet himself.  
  
At some point during the spell he had been able to break from the circle, had taken a safety pin from his jacket and rammed it right through the meat of his palm and out the other side. Its evil point projected skywards from between the bones on top of his hand. Blood was running from his outstretched fingers into the center of the circle.  
  
"They seemed hungry,' he said in a shaky voice, "I thought if I gave them something to eat they might fuck off."  
  
"Good thinking man." Said Giles wearily. He had completely been caught up in the spirit of the first vampire. He tried to remember the name that the first predator had called itself but the experience was already evaporating and slipping away. He looked to Ethan but he was wearing an unbelievably smug expression that spoke volumes about how awesome he considered himself to be. Perhaps it had been having them all here with their different talents, perhaps it was because they were in Spittalfields, or perhaps there was some cosmic event that they were unaware of. Whatever the reason, Giles felt sure that an amateur like Ethan should not have been able to cast such a powerful spell by himself.  
  
Olivia had pulled the pin from Baz's hand and was helping him staunch the bleeding.  
  
"So what should we do as an encore?" asked Ethan.  
  
"Go to the fucking Duck and get mindless and not think anymore about vampires and demons and magic ever again."  
  
No one argued that Baz's idea was the best anyone would come up with. At some point during the proceedings of that night the Scourges of Albion decided to start working towards someday summoning a real demon. They eventually did. Only four survived the experience.  
  
  
  
Hell  
  
One.  
  
Buffy leapt up into a tree and scaled the thick trunk with the sureness of a monkey. She found it surprisingly easy to get a good grip on the rough bark. Probably something to do with the talons her nails had grown into. With a sideways leap she cleared the foliage and bounced along a thick branch that ran parallel with the ground. Glittering insects franticly fluttered out of the way of the approaching Slayer. At the swaying termination of the branch she hunkered down and took a moment to enjoy the sensation of the warm night air blowing through her dreadlocks.  
  
Anya glided through the air towards her.  
  
"Do you see it?"  
  
Buffy nodded. Poking out of the jungle ahead was the pulsing point of a pyramid.  
  
"Where are we?" she asked.  
  
"Hell." replied Anya simply.  
  
"Should we worry?"  
  
The Succubus settled on the branch behind the Slayer and spread her wings for balance. Buffy regarded her for a moment. She was naked and her jet- black skin had become sleek like the leather of fetish boots. Her face, while still recognizably that of Anya, was more demonic and perversely, terribly beautiful  
  
"Do you feel worried?" asked Anya.  
  
Buffy stared at her hands. She opened and closed them a few times feeling strength she had never experienced before. Her senses were wired and the fauna of the whole jungle were an open book to her. Her hearing was so acute that she could hear beetles rummaging in the mulch below and the sucking sound of wasps laying their eggs under leaves. Her visual and olfactory senses were also augmented beyond belief and she was able to perceive all the many different levels of life in the swarming rainforest. She was the top predator here. There was nothing in Hell she feared. She was the Slayer. Not the current Slayer, nor the fractured spirit of the first human Slayer, but rather, Buffy was the complete Slayer. It had finally come home; returned to where it had been stolen from many millennia before. She breathed in deeply then snorted the air out through her nostrils.  
  
"No. Not in the slightest." she replied. She understood why the passage through the rift had altered them. There was no room for humanity in this place. In Hell mortality was an alien concept; Anya's injuries were part of her humanity and therefore irrelevant. They were still themselves, Buffy Summers and Anya Harris. Though Hell was now their reality and they had adapted in accordance with its inhuman influence. These were their demonic aspects and they were powerful. Buffy, who had always felt drawn to the evil she protected earth from suddenly thought she understood why it had enthralled her so. It was simpler. Hell rewarded power for powers sake. Earth was not as generous to goodness, as her life had been testament to.  
  
"We should go there." Said Buffy indicating the pyramid with a tilt of her head.  
  
"Why? We can go wherever we want. We can be whatever we want. Our lives in Sunnydale can be over if we wish them to be. Why go there?"  
  
"You can do what you want. I have to go. There's something waiting for me."  
  
With that Buffy sprang from the branch and with arms outstretched flew into the next tree. She caught another branch and landed on all fours. It bent under her weight then flipped back propelling her high into the humid air.  
  
With a hiss of irritation Anya launched herself into the same space between the trees that Buffy had cleared and soared high into the sky above the treetops. With gentle, flapping corrections of her wings she followed the trail of disturbed bats and swinging vines that was the only evidence of the Slayers passage.  
  
Far away the stepped pyramid, exactly like those built by the Mayans in Guatemala, began to pulse like a beacon. Its light drew Buffy towards it like a pup to a teat.  
  
  
  
Two.  
  
  
  
Captain Graham Galloway wiped a cold sweat from his forehead. He hoped he was ready for this responsibility. All around him tanks revved their engines waiting for his order to advance. His helmets com-link buzzed. He opened a channel.  
  
"Galloway."  
  
"Sir." A crackling voice came through on the other side. "Unit Bravo. We've found the General sir."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He's dead sir. He's been murdered with what seems to have been a small caliber weapon."  
  
That bastard Finn had assassinated him. If he wasn't already dead Galloway was going to finish the job. He changed channel going to the open frequency.  
  
"Attention all personnel; listen up. This is Galloway. The General is dead. As highest-ranking officer remaining on base I'm taking charge of the mission from this point onwards. There will be no deviations from the general's original plan. You know what he would have wanted you to do."  
  
"DRINK BEER FROM-AH THEIR FUCKIN' MOMMA'S SKULLS" went up the roar from the assembled troops.  
  
"All squadrons. ADVANCE!"  
  
Throughout the massive hanger engines roared and the gates to the rift began to rise.  
  
"Come on back to the barn Unit Bravo. And bring the Generals body with you. We're taking him in with us."  
  
"Its what he would have wanted sir."  
  
Galloway terminated the link and pulled his blackened goggles down over his eyes. It mightn't be how he would have wanted it but Hell was definitely where the old bastard belonged. Galloway took one last deep breath full of diesel fumes and hammered on the turret and his tank lurched forward towards the rift. They were going in with traditional weapons. There was no time to acquire a new harmonic and download it. His balls took on the dimensions of lentils.  
  
  
  
Three.  
  
  
  
"We can't keep this up." Shrieked Olivia.  
  
"We have to. Don't think about it. Relax. Take the strain and let it take you. Don't fight Jazz." Said Giles. "Just let it be. Relax into it."  
  
"Try to find the fun in the situation." Suggested Ethan. "Its what I do."  
  
Around them the rift surged sporadically. Higher powers were at work here. The rift had no will of its own. The universe itself had decided that its existence could be tolerated no longer. It wanted it closed and what the universe wants it usually gets.  
  
Giles was Buffy's only hope. He had to keep the rift open long enough to give his charge time to escape. To get back to earth. He would die before he let it collapse and seal her in Hell. Ethan and Jazz were powerful and as a group they were even more so but they were distracted and weak.  
  
Every fiber in his brain that had been subjected to the training of the Watchers Council knew that this was emotional and wrong. He should let the rift close. Another Slayer had already been chosen. Buffy was not essential to the fight against evil anymore. Anything could be coming through the rift and invading earth while they kept it open. Every neuron in his mind told him that that was the right thing to do.  
  
His heart however was speaking a different language. It was one a parent with a seriously ill child might recognize. He just could not allow Buffy to be abandoned. While he had breath in his body she wouldn't be. He had to be the center. He had to take charge of the trio and bend them to his will.  
  
"Olivia, we could be here for forever or nanoseconds. Time is irrelevant. We could die or we may live. That also is irrelevant. All that matters is doing and yet not doing; being and yet not being. We are the circle. We have no beginning and we have no end. We are Ouroboros, we are the link that means nothing yet without which there can be nothing."  
  
As Giles spoke Ethan and Olivia closed their eyes and settled into the sonorous and hypnotic tone of his voice. They ceased to resist the pressure and unnaturalness of being in the rift and instead accepted their situation without ego. Very slowly the rift began to settle and calm.  
  
Giles closed his eyes and began to meditate and the Scourge's breathing began to synchronize. With hands joined they became one, a single being representing the four elements from which they were composed. This was no time to be clever or contemplate double crosses Giles realized. Getting smart would just confuse and distract. This was a time for simplicity.  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
Giles began to meditate. He had once been taught the universal truth about simplicity: that it was more reliable than complexity. He had once contemplated his use of a chainsaw. He realized that although it could be used to open an envelope, his finger did a better job. The simple was better than the complex. He had found himself staring at his finger and a shocking consequence of that truth occurred to him.  
  
There was no such thing as simplicity.  
  
Because he was born with a finger but had had to pay for a chainsaw, which could do things his digit could not do, he had always thought of the chainsaw as being complex. However, when compared to his finger it was an empty page, bereft of interest.  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
His finger was part of a nervous system more complex than anything else discovered in the universe. It was composed of fine muscles, which were themselves composed of millions of cells that were impossibly small multi- process chemical factories. Those same muscles, controlled by the brain could guide a bow across a violin or plait a daughter's hair. He had stared at his finger for hours marveling at the complexity and beauty that was hidden right under his nose. The most obvious place in the world was exactly where most people never look.  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
The same applied to the word 'Om'. So simple that everyone knows of its existence. Giles knew the word well and though he had spent years of mental energy contemplating its depths he was still a beetle skating on the surface of a fathomless lake. He had used it deliberately in this occasion. He needed the other two relaxed and focused on the job at hand and he needed some simple method in which to do it. Meditating to the word 'Om' was it.  
  
It was the bastardization of an ancient Asian word that was also a prayer. They pronounced it 'AUM'. Three letters, the first from the back of the throat where the gut band animal portion of the human resided, the second letter passed across the tongue with which the mind produced words and the last letter exited across the lips and became the sound through which the prayer was communicated. The space between the beginning of the next prayer and the end of the first was the forth letter, the void in which all life lives. The four elements that gave rise to life combined in one sound.  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
"Oooooooommmmmmmm."  
  
As the prayer became stronger it also became quieter in their mouths. As it caused more of an effect on the rift it grew fainter in their minds. The three became one and together produced the void out of everything around them. An instant or an eternity, it meant nothing to them. Giles had had no devious intentions in mind; he had just wanted to save Buffy. Through simplicity and love he managed to do what Ethan and the Initiative had failed to do.  
  
The rift became a part of the universe.  
  
Above the immobile Scourges of Albion the huge orange squid-angel reached out three tentacles and touched one to each of their heads. It was perhaps curious about what they were doing. From the corners of its immense eyes tears of pure joy began to flow.  
  
  
  
Four.  
  
Buffy dropped from a tree and prowled on all fours through some undergrowth until she arrived at a small clearing that surrounded the base of the pyramid. Anya was waiting for her, staring up at the bright light that illuminated the surrounding area. Buffy moved to her side. She found it easier to lope than walk.  
  
"What's up there?" asked Anya.  
  
"Answers. I was brought here for a reason."  
  
"Buffy that stupid car took us here. We followed Giles; the Initiative took him not demons. We are here by accident."  
  
"We may have been at the base by accident but when whatever is in there felt my presence it reached out and pulled me closer. I once met the first Slayer. Giles took me to her to try and answer questions I had that were beyond him. She said that 'Death was my gift'. I never understood what that meant and anything I did think of I didn't like. I have to know Anya. I have to find out more. And perhaps the way home is in there as well."  
  
"I don't think it'll be that simple."  
  
"Maybe, we have to try. Are you coming?"  
  
Anya turned away and stared up into the sky with a dark expression on her face.  
  
"For centuries I was a demon. I had power, just like you Slayer. I lost it but I adapted. What choice did I have? Xander made that change bearable. But now."  
  
She trailed off as a battle waged inside her.  
  
"Anya. Xander loves you."  
  
"I know. And I love him. But this.this.this is so much simpler. I don't have to worry about him anymore. I don't have to worry about my mortality and myself. I can be what I was before, a demon. Though now.well just look at me. No skanky face for Anyaka any more. I'm stronger than I ever was. I have true power now. I could have demons of my own. Could make a place for myself in Hell that I would never have been able to experience in Sunnydale with Xander."  
  
Anger began to creep into her voice.  
  
"No more sleeping in basements, no more scraping together the rent every month. No more patrolling and danger and fear of being hurt. Can you not feel it? Others are scared of us now. We're no longer the weak."  
  
"Anya. It's not real. Don't let Hell get to you. Xander is right now probably going out of his mind with worry wondering where you are."  
  
"I don't care." Bellowed Anya, "I've had enough. I want to be what I was before and more. You can feel the energy in me. I know you can." She jabbed an accusatory finger at Buffy. "I've seen you watch me. You can feel the sex just waiting to come out of me. I can have whomever I want and they'll thank me for the privilege. I'm the scarlet harlot, the whore of Babylon the seductress that lives to draw a good man away from his wife. I can do it all and feel no guilt because that's what I am now. I'm the bitch all woman fear. I'm free."  
  
She spread her wings and shot straight into the air like a missile.  
  
"Earth asked too much of me. You all did." She cried as she flew away.  
  
Buffy watched her go. She knew she should feel sad, should try to bring her back but she didn't. She had her own self to think about and she was determined not to allow herself to succumb to the selfish temptations of Hell like Anya had just done. She wanted to go home, but first she had questions she wanted answered. Why her? Why had she been chosen? Why had she been given the gift of death?  
  
On the side of the pyramid facing her a large flight of stairs ascended to the first terrace of the building. She climbed them cautiously trying to ignore the carvings that decorated the flight and peered over the top. Before her was a dark entrance way. The stone around it had been cut into the shape of a horrible reptiles mouth, open and ready to consume prey. It was flanked by two other smaller flights of stairs which joined behind the entrance to form another wide flight which she guessed would do the same thing on the next terrace. With elbows and knees splayed she crept close to the first floor opening. She could sense no immediate danger and went inside the pyramid.  
  
It led into a cold corridor that she followed to a wide room. The floor of the room was set deep within the pyramid. Torches burnt in metal holders along the rooms many yellow walls and cast dark shadows, which guttered like living things. For someone who had been so closely associated with a Hellmouth she had never given what Hell might actually look like much thought. She had perhaps expected lakes of fire and pitchforks. This was not at all like the images she had been sold as a child. She suspected that this dimension of Hell was more about a state of mind than obvious fear.  
  
The room was stepped like the pyramid but in reverse. It looked like one of the Escher drawings in Giles house; it was wider at the top and descended to the floor in contracted levels. At the center of the lowest floor something blue was glimmering on a dais. Buffy had felt all-powerful in the jungle but here she felt out of her element. She didn't feel as if she was the top predator in the pyramid. She gently dropped from floor to floor, ignoring the many short staircases until she got to the bottom. She slid through shadows until she could hide no more and moved out the relative safety of concealment and onto the open center of the floor. She tried to get the image of a mouse scampering around a spring-trap out of her head but couldn't.  
  
She crept closer to the Dais and rose slowly up until she could see the blue light. It was like a tornado of burning sapphire light. She stared at it mesmerized by its beauty and wondered what it was.  
  
"It's a soul." Said an ancient and croaky voice. "It was your soul to be exact. The soul of the woman Buffy Anne Summers."  
  
Very slowly Buffy turned round, talons ready to gouge and run. She found herself looking at a desiccated old man leaning against a stout staff. He smiled at her.  
  
"Welcome home Slayer." He cackled. "We have all missed you."  
  
  
  
Five.  
  
  
  
Riley picked himself up and with a quizzical expression surveyed the carnage. All his internal systems were without damage and operating within normal parameters. He checked the disruptor and that it was still connected to his battery. The weapon was running perfectly.  
  
He climbed up out of the crater his descent had caused and scanned his surroundings. The jungle was teeming with life though none which could threaten him. He looked again at the crater and for a moment he felt at burst of guilt at the environmental damage he had caused. Trees were knocked down for one hundred meters in every direction. He blanked that thought, this wasn't earth he thought. He had made that mistake once before.  
  
Riley performed a few calculations and estimated that taking the force required to cause such destruction into account and assuming that gravity did not change from dimension to dimension then he had fallen over four kilometers before hitting home. His memory had no record of the fall. The passage through the rift must have temporarily disabled it. That combined with the trauma of Spike's grenades going off in his face. He looked about but there was no sign of the vampire. That didn't really matter to him. Spike had often said that after having the chip put in his head he would have been happier being dust. Perhaps the grenades had blown him away from the rift and the Initiative had caused his wish to come true.  
  
A Pnarwaidh bounced out from the tress and came towards him. Riley leveled the disruptor and gave it a second to charge up. Time to put the weapon through its first field trial he thought.  
  
"That was some entrance mate." Said the Pnarwaidh. "Took me forever to find you."  
  
Riley raised the disruptors business end at the last moment and its beam sliced through the fallen trees behind Spike. He bounded for cover in some bushes.  
  
"Spike? Come out if that's you."  
  
"Of course its me you pillock. That fall fry all your circuits you freak?" Spike raised two red eyes from the fallen canopy. Riley stared at him and a smile began to crease his stony face.  
  
"You feeling okay Spike?"  
  
"Never better mate," said the big black bollock as it approached the soldier. "Sorry about that shit with the grenades. But you know what they say 'No blood no penalty'."  
  
"Quite alright. Worked out quite well in the end."  
  
"This is Hell ennit? You've been here before ain't you? This is where whatever did that to you happened."  
  
Riley slowly nodded and looked northwards. His new body needed no rest but he still had a human brain and that needed some rest. He sat down at the edge of the crater and Spike hopped over and squatted down seemingly oblivious to his change in appearance. He was a vampire; Riley could hardly show him his reflection on his plastisteel body.  
  
"When I left Sunnydale I never thought anything good would happen again in my life. I had lost the woman I loved..."  
  
"Don't talk crap soldier boy. You didn't lose her, you threw her away."  
  
"I didn't throw her away. She pushed me away."  
  
"So that's why you let weak assed vamps suck your blood. Out of self-pity. I told her what you were up to by the way."  
  
"I know," growled Riley.  
  
"I always said you weren't dark enough for her."  
  
Spike had no idea how thin the ice he was treading on was.  
  
"I was dark enough for Buffy Summers. Its whatever makes her the Slayer I wasn't dark enough for."  
  
"She went after you you know. Ended up burbling in a heap on the ground all her shouting drowned out as your helicopter took off. Bleedin' tragic really."  
  
Riley stared at him. If he had sensed that Spike was trying to drive the knife in any deeper he would have killed him on the spot. He didn't. Spike seemed to be genuine about how their relationship had ended. Riley looked away. It could have all been so different he thought. But that was in the past. If he hadn't left he would never have met Egg and that had been the real thing.  
  
"I rejoined the Initiative, but it was changed from the section I had been recruited by. It was leaner, more serious and committed to defending earth. There's a war coming Spike. A war to end all wars. Everything that has gone before is small fry compared to this confrontation. This will be a battle of apocalyptic proportions. This stalemate can't go on much longer with most of humanity living their lives unaware of the demons that walk among us. The Initiative are getting ready for it and are prepared to initiate it if we sense the enemy are weak."  
  
"I joined an elite black operations squadron. We concentrated our affairs in the Southern American continent because that is where we are sure the war is going to start. I pulled off a couple of impossible missions: I didn't care whether I lived or died. I just wanted to blank out what had happened between Buffy and I. My successes attracted the attention of General Markwell who was putting together a base that was going to work directly against Hell. Take the battle to them and destroy the source of the evil that was threatening humanity."  
  
"It was there that I met Egg; she was my commanding officer. Neither of us had ever expected to meet anyone else again. We had both dedicated ourselves to the Initiative. She was so beautiful and very slowly we discovered we were falling in love. This was different than with Buffy. That was an infatuation by comparison. Buffy never loved me, she needed someone like me in her life but she never loved me. She was my first love but I was just a rebound to her. I could never compete with Angel. But I learnt from the experience. See, there are two compartments in your heart. One for your first love, the second for your true love. If you're very lucky you never need the second but that wasn't to be for me. I will never forget Buffy; her memory occupies that first chamber but time passed and the pain faded. Egg took that second piece of my heart and that was so much stronger than the first. We were meant to be together."  
  
Riley flashed the image he had taken in his quarters behind his eyes and stared at it and felt a pain he had never known with Buffy. She was so perfect and strong with her brown eyes and long flowing blonde hair. It had taken him forever to put Buffy behind him.  
  
"Meant?"  
  
"Yes. Meant. Past tense."  
  
Riley sighed and stared northwards again.  
  
"The Mayans occupied what is now Mexico and Guatemala and they had a huge and powerful civilization before the Spaniards came and brought it all down in their search for gold. The Mayans were unique. Never before had a civilization organized itself in a similar way nor had even remotely the same perception of time and the universe. Our tech boys were interested about where this influence might have come from. When strange demonic activity was centralized around an isolated pyramid deep in the Guatemalan jungles we were called in to investigate and neutralize the threat."  
  
"Egg led the squad. We dropped about five kilometers from here," Riley pointed over Spike's spherical head. "We proceeded on foot to the target. I was second in command. We approached the pyramid and acquired our quarry. But it was a trap. Every sensor, even GPS said we were in Guatemala but at some point in the jungle we crossed a dimension and entered Hell on earth. Our back lines were taken out by a demon."  
  
Riley looked Spike square in the eyes.  
  
"You can't know what it was like. No bullshit Spike. I can't stand you most of the time but I've fought beside you and I know you can walk the talk."  
  
"Cheers pal. Love you longtime too."  
  
" But this demon, I hope there is a God out there somewhere cause that's all that stands a chance against this thing. It was straight out of the Old Testament. I was terrified. You would have been terrified as well. Not Egg. She was a better soldier than me. She held her ground and organized the troops and met it head on. I was screaming for us to retreat and I think I was the straw the broke the squads cohesion. They all scattered. Egg looked at me with this expression asking me what had I done and then the demon was upon us and I received these injuries. I held onto consciousness just long enough to see Egg being consumed in flames."  
  
"You survived though mate." Said Spike gently putting one paddle like foot on the soldier's thigh as a form of comfort. "That's got to count for something."  
  
Riley spat on the ground, disgusted with himself.  
  
"I was dead Spike. I was completely burnt by fire. I died along with the rest of the squad. But something happened. What it was has I have never been able to explain and why I was chosen to be returned I have no idea but it must have happened soon after I died or else I wouldn't have had any life for the medics to revive. I suddenly appeared in the base. The rift opened for the first time and what was left of me fell out and onto the ground. It was from the readings taken while the rift was briefly open that Initiative scientists got the idea of opening their own rift. It was exactly the edge Markwell had been waiting for. I didn't care anymore. I had lost Egg. I just wanted one more chance at that demon. This body and this weapon will give me that. I just want one shot at it. I don't care if I kill it or not I just want it to feel some of the pain of what is was like for me to lose Egg."  
  
"You know where this pyramid is mate?"  
  
"Intimately. The coordinates are seared in my internal memory."  
  
"Well what are we waiting for? Let's go kick some demon tail."  
  
"Spike don't you want to try and find a way back through the rift?"  
  
"Nah fuck it mate. By the sounds of this war I don't stand a chance whatever side I'm on."  
  
Riley looked down at Spike.  
  
"If that's what you want then follow me."  
  
"Fucking A. Sure what could be better than having the Big Bad on your side?"  
  
Spike tried to advertise his presence to the whole jungle.  
  
"Here. Hold on." He said with panic rising in his voice. "Where the fuck have my arms gone?"  
  
  
  
Six.  
  
  
  
The first tanks rolled up to the rift. They were equipped with huge pneumatic arms at the side that came forwards and deposited large ramps in front of the squadron. The ramps disengaged automatically and the tanks' caterpillar tracks bit in and pulled them up into the rift.  
  
The rift had been unusually quiet recently and not fluctuating as violently as it had been doing previously. None of Galloway's men noticed. They were focused on war with Hell and proceeded forwards regardless. As each tank disappeared into the rift it was accompanied by an enormous flash before its rear was sucked in. The rest of the first squadron entered the rift up the ramps and disappeared one by one. Galloway's tank was the last of the first squadron to go up. He had insisted that Markwell's corpse was lashed to the front of the tank before it entered.  
  
As he went through the airborne squad moved into position and started to climb the ramps, the helicopters looking as if they had been doused in water with their propellers flat against their cockpits as smaller vehicles towed them in. The rift began to pulse. Its old fluctuations began to reappear as the advancing humans began to destabilize its harmony.  
  
Seven.  
  
"You may call me Ondancetron."  
  
"Okay." Buffy crept in a circle around the man trying to sidle her way to the stairs that led to the rooms entrance. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"  
  
"It did once." Ondancetron sighed. "You have been missing a very long time."  
  
"What do you mean?" Buffy stopped circling; something about his demeanor interested her.  
  
"How much do you understand about yourself?"  
  
"No. I'm not answering any questions yet. You can, starting with who exactly you are."  
  
"I told you," he said wearily, "My name is Ondancetron."  
  
"That means nothing. What are you doing here in Hell? I've got to tell you that the old man image aside it doesn't endear you to me too much."  
  
"I am Ondancetron one of the four Lords of, as you insist upon calling it, Hell."  
  
"You're the Devil?"  
  
"Good grief no. Old Saint Nick is a couple of floors up," Ondancetron indicated the ceiling of the chamber but Buffy got the idea that he wasn't talking about somewhere further up in the pyramid. "I am one of the four.siblings.who control this realm. We are very ancient, the devil as you would recognize it is a much more recent arrival though it is descended from this realms influence. Bugger's gone and usurped all our glory though."  
  
"What are you?"  
  
"I am what I am. Can you say the same?"  
  
"I'm Buffy."  
  
"No, you are the Slayer. The Buffy human is irrelevant." His voice became sterner as he said this and he exerted himself to raise the staff and point it at her.  
  
"I am not irrelevant." She growled.  
  
"No of course not. Please, do an old man a favor and help me sit before you have him go through millennia of missed time." He held out a trembling hand for her assistance. Buffy looked about her with the image of the mouse scampering around a trap still fresh in her mind. She relented and quickly covered the ground between them and taking his hand helped him sit on a step.  
  
He didn't let go of her hand; instead he patted the step beside him.  
  
"Indulge an old man." he said.  
  
"You're beginning to play this weak old man act out."  
  
He laughed.  
  
"I have missed you my little Slayer. We all have. You were so different from how we expected you to be."  
  
Buffy couldn't help return his smile. It seemed to be so genuine.  
  
"We've never met before. You don't know me."  
  
"I might not know you," he said pointing at her, "but I know you." He tapped her chest. "I know the soul inside. I should do. You were created from a part of all of us. Me included." He suddenly groaned and bent over clutching his body.  
  
"What's wrong?" Buffy felt a moment of concern as she remembered where she was and the change Hell had produced in Anya. She grew wary that she was being deliberately distracted.  
  
"What did you mean when you said that that soul was me."  
  
"Not you," he snapped, "The girl. Have you learnt nothing?"  
  
Buffy broke away from his grip.  
  
"I think I'll be going now. It's been fun but I have a world to return to and a Watcher to save."  
  
"Wait. Please wait. I'm sorry. It's the pain, it tests my patience."  
  
"What's wrong with you? Are you dying?"  
  
This last question sent Ondancetron into paroxysms of laughter.  
  
"I certainly hope not." He wheezed.  
  
Buffy shook her head.  
  
"You're definitely the strangest demon I've ever met."  
  
"I'm not a demon. In the same way." he struggled for a moment to complete the analogy, "Eclipses do not alter the weather on your world."  
  
He read the expression on her face and expounded.  
  
"I am not a demon. The races you regard as being demonic are descended from us, my siblings and I, though we are not ourselves demons. In the same way God is not a human."  
  
"You're a God?"  
  
"Yes. To demons, though they would not know my name. They would know names their ancestors called us without realizing that they were describing diluted and mixed versions of us."  
  
"And the Slayer is one of you?"  
  
"No. The Slayer is our creation. The demons grew from us without our will being involved. We created you deliberately. She was the only being we gave birth to that we cared for and the humans stole you from us. Used you against us. Limited your powers and confused you by sending you from one innocent virgin to another so your heritage would be lost and your desire to return home would be negated."  
  
"But why is death my gift?"  
  
"For you share spirit with me and I am Death incarnate my child."  
  
  
  
Eight.  
  
Buffy backed away from Ondancetron.  
  
"You're lying. This is Hell. It's based on lies. None of this is true." She leapt two flights of steps in one bound.  
  
"Slayer stay." He staggered to his feet. "Do not run. You can leave if that is your wish but let us talk longer. We have been without you too long."  
  
Buffy cleared flight after flight of steps heading towards the entrance letting his cries diminish as she put more distance between herself and him. It couldn't be the truth. There was no way she could be Deaths daughter. What about all the good she had done? Why would she have saved the earth so many times if down deep she was evil? Suddenly she wished Giles were here. He always seemed to know what to say.  
  
She landed on the top level of the chamber and half ran, half bounded to the opening that led to the corridor out of the pyramid. Her senses registered something coming towards her. It was a dark shape in the corridor that seemed to draw light towards it rather than reflect it away. She screeched to a halt on the stone floor with her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. The figure came towards her like something from a nightmare. It was black beyond belief and as it lowered its head to pass through the entrance to the room it was as if gravity around it changed. The air seemed to distort and become treacle like as flames blasted from its face.  
  
It seemed a mile high yet the demon or whatever it was had passed through the same doorway she had previously come through. How could it use the same entrance if it was as big as she sensed it was? She reeled unable to process the information and Lucifuge came gradually closer. The creature knelt down and reached toward her with one enormous hand. Buffy simultaneously perceived a figure as threatening as an erupting volcano approaching her as well as one no more dangerous than Xander.  
  
Ondancetron had climbed the stairs.  
  
"Slayer do not be afraid. He means you no harm."  
  
"Bigger they are more there is for me to hit." Buffy launched herself at the monstrous demon with all the power her legs possessed. She became a gray blur as she pulled back one fist and drove it as hard as she was able into the dog-faced creature. It howled and flames exploded across the ceiling blackening the walls as she knocked it clean on its ass. She stood on its chest breathing heavily with her fists clenched.  
  
Ondancetron ran to the creature's side and put his hands on its head.  
  
"Slayer desist. I implore you. His appearance aside Lucifuge meant you no harm. He is as glad to see you as I am."  
  
Buffy leapt from his body a sudden embarrassment growing in her chest.  
  
"Tell me what is going on. I don't understand any of this." She wailed tearing at her thick strands of hair.  
  
"Ishosantos. Restrain her." Commanded Ondancetron. A swarm of insects flew from the entrance and massed around the Slayer. She thrashed at them with her nails but all her strikes missed the small targets and gradually Buffy was driven back into a corner. The huge black demon climbed back to its feet with Ondancetron's help and Buffy swore that the expression on its face was exactly the same as that of an infant that had been scolded for some reason it did not understand.  
  
She furiously fought the stinging insects but with one word from Ondancetron they were gone. Their dark swarm congregated and became the shape of a young male child. He ran forwards and grabbed Buffy around the legs.  
  
"You see. Ishosantos has missed you as much as Lucifuge and I. These are the siblings I told you about. Together with a fourth, who you cannot meet, we gave birth to you."  
  
"Why can't I meet him?"  
  
"Because he is the void. He almost truly does not exist."  
  
"That's makes as much sense as anything else I've heard tonight." Buffy tried to separate herself from the clingy infant at her waist.  
  
"So you are all the Lords of Hell then? You three and your invisible other? I've got to tell you, I'm not impressed."  
  
"I could impress you if you would like. We all could." Said Ondancetron with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"No its okay. I believe you."  
  
Lucifuge came close again and slowly reached out one hand to her with a single digit extended. Buffy did not resist this time. He gently brushed her face with the finger and his mouth split into, what Buffy assumed, was for him a smile.  
  
"Yeah pleased to meet you too you scary big freaking monster."  
  
Ondancetron clasped his hands in glee.  
  
"This is as close to a family reunion as we get in Hell."  
  
Buffy could not help herself laughing out loud. She felt a bond with these creatures similar to the one between her and her mother. She picked up Ishosantos and held him to her chest. He twined her dreadlocks around his tiny fingers.  
  
"I'm not your prisoner am I?"  
  
"Certainly not. This is your home. You are free to stay or leave as you wish."  
  
"I need you to answer some questions for me."  
  
"Please ask questions until the sun implodes and the universe forces us to move on."  
  
"Okay. You said that that was my soul. Buffy's soul. You also said that that was the soul of the Slayer. How can that be? I died. Another was called. Her name was Kendra. She died and she was replaced with a second Slayer called Faith. How can that be my soul?"  
  
"Where the virgins that were called after you your equal?"  
  
"No. And I don't know whether they were virgins. One anyway."  
  
"There is your answer. The humans put rules upon your spirit. You were too strong to obey them. The women who followed you were not the Slayer. They were weakened facsimiles of you. They were brought about by the human's rules, which have been in existence for almost as long as you have been away from us. Were these other Slayers as courageous and individual as you are?"  
  
Buffy did not like to speak ill of the dead but she answered anyway.  
  
"No. I'm still going. They both.quit."  
  
She sat down and flopped the wriggling Ishosantos into her lap.  
  
"I have another question. Why it was me who was called to be the Slayer?"  
  
"We are not the ones you should ask that question of."  
  
Buffy's mood darkened as she thought of the Watchers Council. "Then tell me. What am I? Why did you create a Slayer?"  
  
Ondancetron looked to first Lucifuge and then the unusually aware infant Ishosantos. He bowed his head.  
  
"This is terribly difficult for a God to admit. But we have been infected with our own offspring."  
  
Buffy cocked her head and set Ishosantos aside. She had been waiting the past four years to hear this and she didn't want to miss a word.  
  
"You were not our first attempt at creating a life in our image. We wanted to emulate the faceless God of heaven by creating a creature that was representation of all our powers. It called itself the Pnarwaidh. The Pnarwaidh was very different from you. We tried to give it all the best aspects of ourselves but we failed miserably. What we produced was a hunger demon intent upon the destruction of all life. It possessed powers we could never have imagined. It permeated all dimensions like a parasite.  
  
When the early humans drove us from earth the Pnarwaidh remained because it had assimilated the shape of its prey and avoided rejection. It is moronic in the extreme and yet perfectly adapted to do what it does. Among the many dimensions it infected was our own and it found our life force to be particularly to its liking. We were unable to rid ourselves of its presence and it fed upon us and grew in numbers until our reality could no longer restrain its spread."  
  
Ondancetron bent over again and clutched his abdomen writhing in pain.  
  
"We created you to be our savior. We could not kill our own creation. We gave that responsibility to you. Life is a circle Buffy. It begins with a birth and ends with a death. In between, if the animal is fit and fortunate enough it will be able to pass on its strengths to the next generation. Without death life is without purpose. Through death life gains meaning and urgency. It is not a curse to be the Slayer. It is a privilege. Death is your gift and you are an agent of life. Please...Slayer.help us."  
  
Ondancetron contorted unable to withstand the pain of whatever was hurting him inside. Lucifuge and Ishosantos began to writhe and spasm beside him. Whatever was inside Ondancetron was in them also.  
  
"Let them out," shouted Buffy. "Show them to me. Your Slayer has returned. Let the Pnarwaidh out and I'll bring my gift to them."  
  
All three of the Hell Gods began to vomit upon the stone floor of the pyramid. Buffy had never seen a God vomit before. She had to admit that it was quite impressive. Black vomit spewed from their mouths and covered the floor in an instant. Unable to withstand the release the Lords of Hell collapsed and the vomit sprayed the walls and cascaded all over Buffy. She was instantly covered in a biting, agonizing pain. She scraped at the thick black substance trying to cleanse her body of its toxicity.  
  
It was not a fluid. It was an animal. Many animals. As the Pnarwaidh was expelled from the Gods bodies they reverted to the size Buffy was used to seeing. They spread filling the massive chamber with their punctate bodies. Buffy started to drown under their heaving weight. There was only one thing she knew how to do. Only one thing she wanted to do. She started to slash at them. Their skin ruptured like ripe fruit and sprayed vile internal juices over her face. She clawed back and forth with all the strength she possessed. The Pnarwaidh were so densely packed that she could not fail to rend them apart.  
  
They panicked. They could feel the Slayer amongst them and they squealed in fear for their easy lives. They started to try to escape. Very slowly they found the opening and as if communicating telepathically they all swarmed towards it. Buffy followed hacking and tearing at their prone backs. They massed at the exit and with a blood-curdling howl she dived upon them and killed a dozen with every swipe.  
  
The legions of Pnarwaidh streamed from the first terrace of the pyramid and coursed down into the jungle where they hopped for their lives. Buffy followed them out into the hot night air and drove the last few from the temple then she tilted back her head and let out a sound that chilled every animal in the jungle. There was a new old predator in town.  
  
  
  
Nine.  
  
  
  
"So what you're saying is that there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just a demon called a Norway."  
  
"I never said there was nothing wrong with you Spike. Far from it. I just said that this is Hell and you've taken on the most extreme aspect of the demon you are most closely related to. And its pronounced Pnarwaidh."  
  
"How are you so sure?"  
  
"Our tech boys predicted that demonic alteration was a possible outcome of traveling through the rift."  
  
"How come you aren't sprouting horns then?"  
  
"What can I say? I'm from Iowa. We grow good boys out there."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"Shut-up. Something is coming."  
  
Riley hunkered down behind a tree and Spike bounced to his side.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Pnarwaidh. Lots of them."  
  
Herds of Pnarwaidh thundered towards them. They were black and it was night and they were on them in an instant. Riley didn't waste time wondering where they had all come from. He pointed the disruptor and started firing. The Pnarwaidh caught in its beam detonated instantly. The weapon was so powerful that other Pnarwaidh caught in the explosion flew apart also.  
  
"Where they going?"  
  
"I have no idea Spike. Now shut-up and help me."  
  
"No I have to go with them. I can't help myself."  
  
Spike bounded from cover and joined the undulating masses of Pnarwaidh as they indiscriminately flattened everything in their path. In an instant Spike was gone, hidden amongst their numbers. A few seconds later Riley found himself alone in the jungle watching the last few straggling Pnarwaidh disappearing in the direction of the stampede.  
  
Riley took a second to gather himself. Spike was gone. He had been surprisingly good company but had slowed down their progress. Riley's internal sensors flashed up the position of the pyramid; without Spike he could be there in a matter of minutes. He started to run.  
  
  
  
Ten.  
  
The invading Initiative threw the rift completely out of balance. Giles, Ethan and Olivia could no longer hold it together. Giles hardly had time to realize what was happening before the rift collapsed around them. The squid disappeared and they were rushing forwards through space towards the sun.  
  
Giles staggered to the side and fell flat on his face. He heard the other two Scourges hit the ground near by and then they were surrounded with the deafening cacophony of the Initiative tanks. Instinctively he curled up in a ball thinking that at any moment he was going to be run over. He had failed. He had been unable to keep the rift open. At least he was trapped in Hell along with his charge. It was the least he deserved.  
  
*** ***  
  
Galloway quickly gathered his wits and opened the hatch of the turret. He removed his goggles and visually checked the positions of the other squadrons. What he saw chilled him to the bone. Only eight other tanks had made it through the rift. There were supposed to be twenty-two in Squadron One alone.  
  
"Something on the radar sir."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Unknown sir but they're coming in fast and towards our coordinates."  
  
"Move out. Move out immediately." He screamed into his radio.  
  
"No can do sir. Nowhere to go; the rainforest is all around us. We're blocked in sir."  
  
We came out at the wrong place thought Galloway as the first of the radar blips made itself known. It was one of Squadron One's missing tanks. And it was falling; and from a great height. Its impact with the ground was incredible. Flames erupted and enveloped the remaining squadron as the contents of the whole fuel tank were blasted into the air. Another tank came down hard and then another.  
  
"Sir. Remaining units are requesting orders. Sir? Sir I repeat."  
  
"I heard you you bastard. Fuck up I'm trying to think."  
  
Another tank scored a direct hit with a ground vehicle and shrapnel screamed through the air like a firework display. This was not how the general had planned things. The rest of Squadron One that had made it through the rift as well as some of Ariel Gold plummeted to the ground in the next few seconds and tank after tank full of Initiative soldiers died horrible deaths. After a minute it was over. Galloway opened his turret hatch and poked his head out.  
  
"Report remaining ground force."  
  
"Three here sir."  
  
"Nineteen sir."  
  
Two more tanks reported in. That made five in total. They had been reduced from three squadrons to five operable vehicles and they had not yet even engaged the enemy.  
  
"Sir ground sensors this time."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Not sure sir but it's alive and there's fucking millions of them."  
  
Galloway drew his side arm. He wasn't sure whether he meant to shoot whatever was coming towards them or himself. There was movement in the tree line all around them. Galloway opted for the former and began to pump bullets into the swarming Pnarwaidh.  
  
"Gunners target directly ahead. Zero range. Fire."  
  
The tank cannons fired shells as low to the ground as they were able but they weren't designed for this kind of close proximity battle. The rounds detonated in the forest and although they took many of the chomping demons with them they did nothing to the Pnarwaidh already swarming over the tanks. Galloway got a few that were munching on the leering generals cadaver but all that did was attract the attention of others. He tried to get the hatch closed but was too late for his right hand which left in the mouth of a ravenous invader.  
  
Seeing their captain drop onto the floor spouting blood from a severed limb did not help the morale of his men at all. They were however well trained and one tried to get morphine from a med-cab to treat Galloway with. He was just about to slide the needle into the captain's arm when a hole appeared in the reinforced steel of the tanks exterior shell. A Pnarwaidh squeezed in and pureed its human occupants in a matter of seconds.  
  
  
  
*** ***  
  
Giles was running for his life, darting between trees and flying through the undergrowth as if it wasn't there. He felt exactly as he had done during Ethan's spell in London those many years ago. The same black creatures that had hunted him through the long grasses of the African savanna were hunting him again only this time it was for real. His breath burnt in his lungs as he tried to squeeze another step and then another out of his terrified body.  
  
Olivia and Ethan were close behind. They had been a part of the same experience and remembered it just as vividly as the Watcher.  
  
"I think we lost them." Said Ethan.  
  
"I hope you're right," gasped Giles, "But let's keep going. Just to be sure."  
  
At that moment a black shape moved from the shadows between the trees and crept closer. It rounded on the three panting humans, getting as close as it could without being detected. It picked its target and when it felt it could advance no more without being seen it attacked. It launched itself into the air and with a roar let its serrated mouth yawn open.  
  
Ethan saw the Pnarwaidh in his peripheral vision and thought it was going for him. He tried to protect himself by pushing Olivia towards it so it would go for the woman and not him.  
  
"Olivia." Screamed Giles and grabbed at her. He caught her by the fingers of her left hand but his grip wasn't strong enough. The Pnarwaidh ripped her whole head off with one ferocious bite. Olivia's body staggered forwards and fell forwards pulling her hand out of a stunned Giles hand. Blood spat from the wound in her neck as her body tried to supply a brain that was no longer there. Ethan screamed and began to run again as the masticating demon rounded for another attack. He disappeared into the dense jungle abandoning both the corpse of the woman he professed to have loved and well as his best friend to the enemy.  
  
Giles dropped to his knees and stared at Olivia's corpse. He opened his hand and stared at her ring that had come off her finger as she had fallen. Behind him he could hear the Pnarwaidh get closer.  
  
"Go on you bastard," he shouted, "You've been waiting long enough for this. You've got me, now kill me and lets get this over with."  
  
The Pnarwaidh went past him and straight to Olivia where it began to jump up and down on her body. Giles stared at the sight awestruck. The feeling that had been with him since his days in Spittalfields; that all the Scourges were cursed to one day be hunted and claimed by that terrifying predator had not come to pass. The creature had had him prone and had not taken its chance. Perhaps this was part of its game. It would let him think he had escaped death only to draw out the hunt. Perhaps this torment fed its hunger as much as the life it took. Whatever. He had been given a second chance to live. Giles was taking it. He turned and ran and the joy at still being alive made him feel as light as air. As he ran a line from an Agatha Christie novel went through Giles' mind, 'And then there were two'  
  
Back in the clearing the Pnarwaidh continued to mutilate Olivia's corpse.  
  
"Got you you bitch. I told you I would. Shouldn't have messed with the Big Bad should you?"  
  
Spike continued to jump on Olivia's corpse saying 'Bitch' with each leap.  
  
  
  
Eleven.  
  
  
  
Buffy stood up on two feet like a human and walked back into the pyramid. Ishosantos ran to her and wrapped his tiny arms around her legs. Ondancetron and the enormous Lucifuge smiled at her.  
  
"I'm not staying." she said. "I want to go home."  
  
"But Slayer." began Ondancetron.  
  
"Forget it. I'm not staying in Hell. This may be your home but its not where I belong."  
  
The three Lords of Hell shared a look.  
  
"Slayer we had hoped."  
  
"Hope away all you want. It doesn't matter anymore. And stop calling me Slayer. I'm Buffy. Buffy Summers, the vampire Slayer. You may have created the spirit that became the Slayer but you lost her and that's just tough for you. I have its power now and I decide what I do with my own life. I get that now. I understand and I accept it."  
  
Lucifuge sat down with an impact that shook the entire structure.  
  
"I'm sorry for you but you don't want me back. You just want someone to clean up your mistakes and make your life more bearable. Forget it. I get enough of that at home. I'm more than some glorified fly swatter."  
  
"But Buffy we need you."  
  
"You're Lords of Hell. Demons pray to you in their sleep. What do you need me for?"  
  
"We love you," said Ishosantos. "Don't go."  
  
Buffy looked down at the small boy then put her hand in his face and pushed the God to the floor.  
  
"You're no different than the Council. Every one wants a piece of me until I have no time for my own life. They tried to tell me that I had a destiny. You try to tell me that I have no choice. That who I know myself to be is wrong and you're my family and I owe you. Well enough is enough. No more. I'm drawing a line in the sand or whatever this muck down here is."  
  
"Slayer you do not understand."  
  
"Ondancetron; cool name by the way. You are the one who doesn't understand. I'm grateful for you explaining to me what I was but it doesn't matter anymore because that's not who I am now."  
  
The old man approached her and put a hand as soft as a spring leaf to her cheek. His brow worked as he tried to find the words to say.  
  
"I would not and will not keep you here against your will Buffy but we truly do need you. The Pnarwaidh will return when they sense you are gone and they will continue to feed upon us until there is nothing left. This dimension will fall into history and we will become whispers on the wind. I cannot imagine the confusion you must experience being torn between your world and this one. But know this my child. Be it you Buffy or be it another's light burning on that dais, the Slayer will return home one day. I am Death and I know life like Charon knew the Styx. The Slayer will return to Hell for it is here that peace exists for her."  
  
He turned his back on her.  
  
"Now go. There are others, humans that care for you as we do. Go Buffy Summers. Return to your world and fight your fight if that is your wish but I ask one thing of you."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"DIE DEMON SCUM."  
  
The air filled with a brilliant crackling energy. Lucifuge was thrown backwards with a yowl that caused Buffy's ears to scream in protest. Riley swept the disruptor over Lucifuge's frame and the demon Lord contorted as the pure-Life energy seared his flesh. Ondancetron came forwards and Riley pointed the weapon at him. Buffy stepped in front of the God of Death. Riley lowered the disruptor slightly. His face softened, "Buffy?"  
  
".riley?"  
  
The expression on what was left of his face hardened and the weapon went back to the level of his eyes. He squeezed the trigger.  
  
Buffy ducked under the vociferous beam and catapulted herself along the floor at Riley. The energy crackled over her and struck Ondancetron lifting the old man into the air and whipping him about the chamber like a fly caught on the end of a chameleon's tongue. Buffy caught Riley across the waist with her shoulder nailing him to the ground as if he had been run through with the lance of a charging knight. The fight was on.  
  
The disruptor flew from his hands and Ondancetron dropped to the tiles. Buffy straddled Riley and slashed her nails across his chest. Sparks flew from the plasti-steel but Riley was phased for only an instant.  
  
He curled his legs up behind her and hooked his feet under her armpits. He began to squeeze. The pain was incredible as the assemblies of pistons that powered the limbs focused all their force on her ribs. Buffy hammered her fists into his thighs in an attempt to extricate herself from his grasp but it didn't work. There were no nerves underlying the surface for her to numb. She didn't realize it was a machine and not a man in armor. She began to weaken. Riley felt her give slightly and instantly straightened his legs slamming her back into the stone tiles driving the air from her lungs.  
  
The cyborg was up faster than his size should have allowed. One big metal hand came down at her and coiled in her long matted hair. Riley hauled her off the ground with one fluid, ergonomically engineered movement. With his flesh arm he began to work her torso driving his fist again and again into body trying to prevent her getting her breath back. Buffy caught his fist with one hand and stopped it dead. She began to squeeze hard and her talons pierced his flesh. She felt an explosion of ecstasy in her chest and bared her teeth as she drew first blood. The elation was short lived.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her and took her in an almighty bearhug. She screamed and he released her only to drive his head hard into hers. She staggered back. The disruptor was still connected to his hip and Buffy grabbed for it. He threw a huge fist at her but she ducked under the droning metal, straightened and hit him square in the face with the butt of the weapon. Blood burst from his nose. She hit him again and again trying to drive Riley back into the chamber where there was a hope of some assistance from the Lords.  
  
Riley unclipped the weapon and in one quick movement wrapped the cable around her throat. He pulled hard and she was spun round and hit the ground again. He grabbed her by the hair and drove a knee into her face. Then using both arms ran her into first one wall and then the other, pushing her back into the passageway.  
  
She sprawled in the narrow corridor and scrambled away from him desperately trying to find some space in which to work. This wasn't going well, she was loosing. These close quarters didn't suit her style. She needed room to move so she could use her best weapons; her feet. Riley was different, the corridor was perfect for him. There was nowhere in this constricted environment where she wasn't within his reach. He fought exactly as he did when they had been together in Sunnydale, getting in close, hitting hard and staying in close applying pressure until he had won.  
  
He hit her on the side of the head with a resounding left hook and she whirled round and saw her own blood splatter the wall. He dropped an axe elbow onto the top of her head and her knees turned to jelly and an excruciating pain exploded in her neck accompanied by a crunching sound. She had never taken a beating like this before. She felt like she was dying.  
  
Riley picked her up by the dreadlocks once more. There was finality to the movement and he roared like a wrestler setting up their finishing move. He drew back his metal arm and Buffy saw it coming as if in slow motion but could do nothing about it. She was beaten, hanging like a rag doll; powerless. He pivoted, twisting round and with growing speed slammed his forearm into her chest. It felt as if she had been hit with a helicopter rotor blade. She sailed down the corridor grinding against the floor and rolled outside onto the terrace of the pyramid.  
  
She lay back and stared into the sizzling sky. Her back was on fire where all the skin had been scraped off. She tried to move. Nothing happened. Riley loomed over her. She wondered where it had all gone wrong. She tried to tie her life down to one moment when it had fallen apart. Where did you go when you died in Hell?  
  
"Riley?"  
  
Riley turned. A woman with flowing blonde hair and dressed in military fatigues was standing on the terrace. She smiled at the cyborg.  
  
"Riley. Is it really you?"  
  
"Egg?" there was disbelief in his voice. He shook his head trying to shake away the sight of his dead girlfriend.  
  
"Come here Riley. Come to me my love." Egg held out her hand and Riley, dumbstruck stepped towards her and took it.  
  
"Forget her Riley. Its me you want. I've been waiting here for you for so long. Where have you been? You left me."  
  
"I didn't leave you Egg." He sobbed suddenly overcome with emotion.  
  
She embraced him and coiled one sinuous leg around his waist. Her hands were on his face and she pressed her lips against his in a deep kiss. Buffy turned her head to look. The woman was all over him and Riley was struggling to maintain his balance. Large black wings appeared on her back and Egg pressed herself against him harder completely occupying his world.  
  
"Egg? What's happening?"  
  
"Shhh my love. Shhh, everything is going to be okay." Egg pressed her mouth to his and very slowly Riley stopped struggling as she siphoned the love out of his body. Gently she set him on the ground. He lay still; all his drive and impetus for revenge removed. Anya stepped over his body and the image of the woman called Egg disappeared and was replaced with the sleek, black Succubus Anya had become.  
  
"I had never been happy before I met Xander. I couldn't bear to live without him. I couldn't bear to go back to a life without happiness." She turned away as if embarrassed with her weakness for a stupid male.  
  
"And there was me thinking that you just couldn't resist messing with my man." Buffy rose on trembling limbs and crawled to Riley. Anya watched but did not offer to help. Her forked tongue tasted the air like a snake. She had come back; was more expected from her?  
  
"Riley." He turned his head and looked at Buffy. The mania that had been in his eyes had gone.  
  
"These creatures are evil beyond measure. How could you associate with them?"  
  
"They're not all bad."  
  
"They are pure evil. They exist only to destroy us."  
  
"Who told you that?"  
  
Riley paused.  
  
"They killed Egg, the only woman who I ever loved beside you. They killed me and turned me into this machine."  
  
"You wouldn't have been creeping about trying to kill them at the time would you?"  
  
"Buffy. Don't laugh at me. I'm serious."  
  
"I'm not laughing. I just think you're pathetic. You say you died. You obviously got a second go at life and look what you made of it. All you wanted to do was go kill more demons and die again. You're more like the Slayer they wanted than I ever was."  
  
Something she had just said caused an idea to blossom in her rattled head.  
  
"Riley can you walk?"  
  
He nodded and got to his feet.  
  
"Help me inside. We've got someone to talk to. If you haven't killed him that is." Riley sheepishly took her under the arm and walked with her back into the pyramid. Anya followed them.  
  
*** ***  
  
"This is to our mutual satisfaction?" Ondancetron's clothes were still smoking from the disruptors energy beam but he seemed unhurt.  
  
"Yeah. Look at him. He's happy. He has a purpose again. He gets to kill the demons that hurt him over and over again."  
  
"He is mortal. He will not last forever."  
  
"If the people that saved his life did to him what they did to a creature I fought called Adam then he's as good as immortal. You need a Slayer. Let him be that for you. It'll make me feel better about returning home."  
  
Ondancetron peered back over his shoulder at the cyborg and Lucifuge who were eyeing each other warily.  
  
"I am unsure but we cannot go on as we have been. It is agreed. The human will stay and protect us from the Pnarwaidh. There is a certain ironic symmetry don't you think?"  
  
"Sorry I never was much of a one for math. I'd like to go now?"  
  
"I will return you and all yours to where you came from." Said Ondancetron.  
  
Buffy thanked him and leaned against Anya.  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
"Better than you."  
  
"Ready to go home?"  
  
She didn't hesitate for a second. "Yes."  
  
Ondancetron raised his staff but stopped as Riley came forward.  
  
"Buffy. I just wanted to say..."  
  
"It's okay Riley I think I know. I'm sorry too. I treated you like crap. You were too good for me."  
  
"I wasn't too good for you. We just weren't meant to be lovers. In this life anyway."  
  
"Maybe." She couldn't disguise the doubt out of her voice. "Until the next one then Riley."  
  
"There's no bad feeling between us Buffy?" he said with sudden desperation in his voice.  
  
"No Riley. No bad feeling between us. No bad blood at all."  
  
He saluted her and she laughed at the simplicity underlying the gesture.  
  
"Give them Hell Riley."  
  
  
  
Twelve.  
  
  
  
The Hellmouth in Sunnydale opened with a surprising and brilliant flash. Four bodies were deposited on a hard floor and then the Hellmouth closed as suddenly as it had opened.  
  
Mr. Coates the school janitor stopped dead in his tracks. A cigarette butt fell from his lips and into the pile of invisible dust he had been pushing around the halls of various High Schools for almost two decades. When the old Sunnydale High had burnt down he had never been happier. But then had come unemployment and no matter how weird some of the things he had seen within the old schools corridors nothing was as bad as having no job. When the new school had been built he had reluctantly applied for his old job and had opened his acceptance letter with mixed feelings. Everything had been going well until now.  
  
"Jesus Christ," he said heading for the door. "Not this shit again. I didn't see nothing."  
  
Giles grabbed Buffy to him and the two embraced for a long time. Eventually the Watcher peeled himself away as her grip threatened to break his back.  
  
"Buffy. I...I..."  
  
"I know Giles. Me too. You okay?"  
  
"Some things happened."  
  
"Want to talk later?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Me too. I have things to tell you too. Firstly though, give Anya a lend of your coat would you."  
  
"What? Oh my! Oh my goodness."  
  
Buffy looked at Spike. He looked back at her.  
  
"Lost my bloody coat." He said.  
  
Buffy hesitated. Physically she felt exhausted but mentally and spiritually she felt more alive than ever before since she had become the Slayer.  
  
"Are you alright Spike?"  
  
He shrugged and twisted one foot on the floor.  
  
"I tried to find you." He said, "Nearly died. Wound up in Hell with one of your exs."  
  
Buffy wanted to tell him that she wouldn't have risked the same for him but he probably already knew that.  
  
"Thank for looking after Riley Spike"  
  
The vampire threw back his head and laughed. There was a bitter twinge to the laughter.  
  
"You're all heart Slayer."  
  
With that he left on his own without waiting for the others. Without the usual dramatic sweep his coat would have given the exit Spike looked smaller, thinner and undeniably lonelier.  
  
*** ***  
  
Giles found a phone and rang Willow at Buffy's house. Exactly six minutes and forty-two seconds later Xander's work van screeched into the High Schools parking lot.  
  
Xander and Willow bounded out.  
  
"Oh God." Said Xander grabbing Giles in an enormous hug. "I'm so glad to see you. And you too Buffy. And you Willow. I'm so glad to see you too."  
  
"Xander. I never left."  
  
"Xander. Xander. What about me? Aren't you glad to see me too?"  
  
"Anya baby I am so glad to see you safe and not hurt that it is going to take me quite a few days in bed to explain it to you fully. I'm just dealing with the unimportant people first."  
  
"Oh Xaaanduurrr. I love you."  
  
The two lovers linked bodies and kissed completely oblivious to all around them.  
  
"Oh." Said Giles. "I have to say I think that's quite rude."  
  
"I tell you." Said Willow, "She's definitely rubbing off on him."  
  
Buffy couldn't help smiling as she watched the couple.  
  
"Let it go Will," said Buffy in a gentle voice, "I think he's rubbing off on her too  
  
  
  
Thirteen.  
  
  
  
Ondancetron sat on the top terrace of the pyramid puffing from a pipe. From the jungle before him came periodic flashes and horrendous squeals. Well at least someone was enjoying their job he thought.  
  
"?"  
  
"Yes I think it worked out quite well. I wasn't too sure what to do when I smelt the Slayer on the dead soldier but I had to do something. I couldn't just let an opportunity like that go."  
  
"!"  
  
"It worked out better than I could have hoped. He brought her to us and then returned to do her job for her. A conciliatory prize I believe it is called."  
  
"?"  
  
"No she didn't stay."  
  
"?"  
  
"I wasn't sure. It was too clouded, too many possible ways it could have gone. I'm sure it gave the Pluripotents quite a headache."  
  
"?"  
  
"She will be back. Not just any one. That one. She will return. I tried to tell her. I tried to explain to her that it is her own presence on earth that causes the imbalance she battles. She didn't listen. I think she thought that I was trying to con her in some way."  
  
"!"  
  
"Yes. You're right. I probably was a bit."  
  
"!"  
  
"Right well good to talk to you. Will I be seeing you again soon?"  
  
"!"  
  
"No? Right, the war and all that. Well I'd like to wish you luck but that would be kind of against my best interests so how about we just say goodbye?"  
  
"!"  
  
"Goodbye then."  
  
Ondancetron watched the large orange squid float away and shook his head. Those heavenly types sure were an odd bunch he thought as the stench of charred Pnarwaidh wafted up from the jungle.  
  
Epilogue.  
  
Giles opened the large wooden chest at the bottom of his bed and carefully removed some items until he found what he had been looking for. It was a clear zip-lock bag. He opened it and examined the contents; a grubby 'Van DerGraph Generator' T-shirt and a rusted safety pin. He spent a few moments looking at them then put them back in the bag and with a sigh added Olivia's ring. He wondered what would be placed in the bag next. This made him think momentarily of Ethan but that was a dead end as far as he was concerned. He did not wish his old friend ill but he hoped he never met him again.  
  
He returned the contents to the case and shut the lid. He had a quick shower and slipped between the sheets of his bed with the Trollop book he had promised himself what seemed like a lifetime ago. He was asleep before he could open it.  
  
As he slept he dreamt and through this medium his subconscious communicated something to him. He woke with a start and blindly searched his bedside table for his glasses. The phone rang and he lifted the receiver as if he had been expecting it. He knew who was on the other end.  
  
"Yes Buffy?"  
  
"Giles I was dreaming."  
  
"I know. The Initiative was experimenting on the Pnarwaidh."  
  
"Exactly. What the Hell were Myth demons doing on Earth to begin with?"  
  
  
  
THE END.  
  
49,510 words. 06Aug02  
  
To be continued in DAMNATION DANCE; the sequel to BAD BLOOD and the second installment of the 'Armageddon Trilogy'  
  
Disclaimer: if you recognized any names and places then you can be sure that they were created and are owned by Joss Whedon. And fair play to him. Everything else came from me so now you know whom to blame. So remember buckos 'Get home before dark'.  
  
For Suzan, my very own vengeance demon.  
  
PJD 


End file.
