1. one

**__**

Hell is in the Eye of the Beholder. 

BTVS/Angel/Hellraiser 

B.H. Ramsay 

I did not create any of the worlds represented here…. I just wish I had. 

Author's Notes. I'm playing fast and loose with timelines folks but the setting is roughly Season 7 and Four or Angel and Buffy and after the first Hellraiser Film 

Which reminds me I wanted to mention that without help namely: cenobitehellraiser, Scarecrow, & dark_lore this would still be on the drawing board. Comments are appreciated Criticism will be listened to and Flamers will taste the sweet agony of Pinhead 

Dedicated to the Crowd at Shrine Of Heroes whose continued support make it all worth while 

There is a place…. You can find it if you want to but only if you really want. The journey there is interesting lots of things to see and do. You only find it after you have tasted every single pleasure and pain that this sad world offers. Every drug, drink, sexual position…once you have gone as far as a man can go and still be alive, some one will tell you about it, Maybe a junkie, maybe a prostitute, maybe a bum. Nevertheless, you will learn of it just as everyone else does …Le Marchland's Box. If you can find it…and finding it is hard, cause if it wasn't hard why would you want it, you will be unimpressed. You will think that someone has fucked you over big time. A small puzzle box with ornate and arcane designs all over it. It's about the size of a man's fist. Then you will start to play with it and try to solve it…. Don't worry if you aren't good at puzzles. The box wants you to solve it, to open it. When you do, everything you have experienced to get to this point will seem like the pricking of a pin compared to what's waiting on the other side. The Order of the Gash, Demons to some, and Angels to others, they wait for people just like you. The box is the only way to get to them but the box is not the only way out. Only a few have managed to escape the world accessed via The Box … This is the realm of Leviathan, a Hell God. In this place, Leviathan's will is law and its will is that everything that we are; flesh, blood, bone, and soul are brought to heel. As has been said the Box opens the door to hell but the box is not the only way to get to hell. The gates of hell are many and varied, the ways are patrolled by the dammed and tortured, some are small and transient. One is not however, so it was that a LeMarchand Box in all it's horror found its way to a small California Town called Sunnydale; and into the hands of a young woman named Dawn Summers. 

***

Anya Jenkins slammed down the pen that she had been using. For the three adults and one child in the room this was the sign that Anya was about to speak and such attention should be paid at risk of missing whatever embarrassing thing she would hold forth and exposit on. 

Anya cursed in a foreign language. Several people turned to look at a tall dark haired man sitting at a table over loaded with books filled with arcane trivia. Xander Harris her one time BF and ex-fiancée, shrugged his shoulders. His former love had been a Vengeance Demon. Before losing her powers, Anyanka had answered the calls of scorned women for a Very, very long time and had over those centuries picked up a collection of swear words that was impressive in its depth. Since he had by proxy been nominated he spoke up dreading the answer to the question of what exactly was bothering the current owner operator of the Magic Box Sunnydale's one stop shopping spot for all things arcane and mysterious. 

"Anya, Hun what's wrong?" this was a touchy question for Xander because the list of things that might be bothering Anya was almost as impressive as her list of swears from around the world. And he was featured prominently on that list. 

"My suppliers, if they are as incompetent in love as they are at there jobs whoever is handling vengeance should be getting multiple calls for their useless hides." 

Willow Rosenberg uncoiled from the easy chair in which she as flopped. Her small size and ditzy sounding voice hid the brilliant mind in her head and the almost limitless power she could tap as one of the most powerful witches in the country if not the world. "What did they forget this time?" 

"Chinese powder boxes. The wood is specially treated to contain…."

Xander interrupted "Skip it, the point is it's nothing that we can fix right this second am I right?". Anya was passionate about many things and as such could babble as much as Willow when the right moment came along.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have customers who have been waiting for these things for weeks now" 

Dawn Summers looked casually at the crate and reached into it to extract a cubical box the size of her fist. It had etchings all over it. "What's this?" 

Not a powder box." Anya said unconcernedly, turned, and stalked toward the telephone. Her obvious intention was the verbal evisceration of the workman, or workmen who had spoilt Anya's day with their manly incompetence. 

The dirty blonde-haired moppet examined the box in her hand. "It looks cute, what is it?" 

"It's something from the Magic Box. That means you should leave it alone." came the firm voice of her athletic looking sister Buffy. Buffy was speaking from experience. She had long ago been chosen to be The Slayer, the warrior appointed by destiny to protect the human race from the scourge of Vampires and demons that infested the small California town they called home. 

"It's just a box what could possible happen from playing with a…"

"I got a theory dum-dum da da dum" Xander interrupted the exchange by humming in a too loud voice. The self proclaimed Zeppo of the group Xander in reality was frequently the voice of reason since he lacked the super powers or long life the others could boast. The comment was in reference to a long ago incident in which a powerful demon lord had cast a spell forcing all under its influence to sing their most hidden thoughts and feelings. The others shuddered at the memories of the song and dance numbers that had almost been the end of all of them.

The door to the shop opened and a young girl about Dawns age entered the shop. Dawn emitted an eardrum-bursting squeal and the two embraced each other. Several seconds of excited chatter followed which none of the adults could follow. 

Buffy turned to Willow. "Did we really sound like that when we were her age?" 

"I'd say no but that would make me the biggest fattest liar wouldn't it." 

"I clearly remember much freakish squealing during the Sunny-Hell High days." Xander muttered as he watched the girls bouncing energetically around the store.

"There is a difference between then and now Xander." Buffy said sweetly 

"What " the man muttered as he continued to watch the school girls 

"You weren't looking at my much-too-young-for-you sister and her friends." Buffy said pointedly

Xander snapped out of the rapturous state he was in and looked around at his two female friends and their vaguely amused glances. "Whoa am I still here, I could have sworn that I was supposed to be doing something far away from the sight of young bouncy females." 

He leapt out of his chair and went to the door bumping into the counter by accident on his way. 

"Xander if you want to work your way back into my good graces you could give the girls a ride to school."

Harris turned around and nodded "sure thing Buff, Dawnster and friend will be chauffeured to school. Or my name isn't…"

"…Mud if they are late which reminds me. If you guys are done assaulting our eardrums could you possibly start heading toward the Door." 

Dawn and friend stopped their squealing and bouncing long enough to launch exasperated glares at Buffy before heading out the door toward Xander's car double parked out front. 

Xander smiled "You do not want to know how much she looked like you just then. Buffy you used to toss looks like that at you Mom all the time." He fled the dirty look Buffy cast at him.

"They grow up so fast." She said wistfully after the trio had left the shop.

Willow didn't know which was funnier. Buffy going all empty nest on her or Anya in the back room screaming though the telephone. The supplier was apparently blaming the mistake on her fluency in Chinese. Anya was of the opinion that if the supplier wanted to find out how good her Chinese was he could listen to her tell him where to shove his useless waybill number. 

Completely unnoticed by anyone was the puzzle box. It had been knocked off the counter landing in the purse currently resting on Dawns shoulder. 

***


	2. two

***

Xander found a new definition for hell during the drive to the school. A part of this involved the girls demand that the radio be tuned to a top forty station. The station then decided to do a song sweep that Xander could only describe as the Boy-Band Marathon from hell. The squealing had been bad enough but Dawn's off-key rendition of a song about unrequited teen lust had Xander slowly spinning into a circle of hell from whence escape would be possible only by the loss of his hearing. He was desperately tuning the girls out and so was surprised when they had to start whacking him in the head. "Ok Important safety rule, no hitting the guy at the wheel."

"What is the deal Xander we said stop up ahead." The only thing ahead was an empty suburban street and a lone figure walking disconsolately along the roadway. Dawn screamed out "Celeste" and the girl looked up as if she had been in a daze. The sight of the screaming waving teen seemed to alarm her. "Need a ride?" Dawn asked

The girl seemed about to say No but then shrugged her shoulders and walked slowly over to the car climbing into the already crowded backseat. Dawn shot a look at her friend Val who reading that the two of them needed a moment crawled brazenly into the front seat of the car. 

"Mr. Harris, Dawn says you have the coolest taste in music what kind do you like to listen to." She asked the man sweetly making good use of her pout-y lips and full lashes. 

Dawn and Celeste settled back in the car seat. Dawn turned to her friend and fixed her with a searching gaze. "Well, what did your parents say when you asked them."

"They said the same thing everyone else says. Plastic surgery is dangerous and extreme. There is nothing wrong with me that good diet and hard exercise won't solve. More like there is nothing it can do to fix what's wrong. They say its my self esteem but that's not a problem its not like when my mom was in school they don't know how hard it is for me…. For us"

"Maybe you should hold off. I mean its not like we are going to be stuck in Sunnydale forever just grin and bare it."

"Easy for you to say Dawn you have a hot sister and you are very good looking. I look like a troll doll."

"Well I'm sorry but you're stuck with things as they are unless you can find someone who will work on you without parental consent."

"Well as a matter of fact. The last time I was at a doctors office trying to convince him, one of the ladies said that she had heard of someone who worked cheap. Came highly recommended too…"

"Ah well go see him then."

"I don't know. He might just say the same thing that the rest of them do; That I'm too young to know what I want. Or he will be scared my parents will sue his ass and he won't touch me."

The car pulled in front of the school. The three girls hopped out of the car with Val promising Xander that she would indeed try to find that Sex Pistols CD that he was saying redefined music as they had known it. The girls waked to class with Celeste updating Val on her ongoing quest to improve on natures gross screw over. 

***

The topic was ancient civilizations and the class was history. Dawn hated the topic. Growing up in a home, surrounded by books on all aspects of ancient history would do that to you. But Patrick Miller the teacher made the class interesting, and if the reason he made it interesting was because he seemed to like the students and especially Dawn …well that was all to the good. 

Dawn and Celeste were whispering about her situation during a lull in the class. The clearing of Mr. Miller's throat brought them back to the harsh realities of the moment.

"Miss Summers, I'm assuming that your lack of attention means that you already have an example of the civilization that we were just discussing." His sharp good looks and wavy hair made him look handsome in the eyes of the girls in the classroom. Dawn paled but Miller was not done. "You must be carrying it in that bag of yours. Is that why you are gabbing away with Celeste instead of paying attention in my class." He started forward and held out his hand. Dawn reached reluctantly into her bag to withdraw the notes that She and Celeste had been passing and her hand closed around something bulky. Surprised she withdrew the object, which the teacher snatched from her. 

"Well, well what have we here…? Interesting…Sorry to disappoint you Summers but this is not Chinese." 

"It isn't." She asked. She wondered just how miserable Buffy would make her life if the teacher called and asked about the Box. She figured that Buffy would wait maybe three seconds tops and then jump to the conclusion that she had stolen it. She had no clue how the danm thing had gotten there into he first place. 

It's French, the construction was done by someone who has studied Chinese influence extensively but the wood and design accents clearly mark it as French. Nice try Summers. You can pick it up at the end of the day."

"But Mr. Miller" she whined

"At the end of the day…and I might consider not telling your sister why you weren't listening in class today." 

"Yes Mr. Miller." 

***

The rest of the day flew by. Not that Celeste would notice If it had not. After Miller's class the trio had gone through the rest of the day with Dawn fretting about the box Miller had taken. At the end of the day, she had gone off to see the man. Celeste had headed across town. As much as she liked Dawn and wanted to spend time with her she wanted to do this on her own. Her steps took her a dilapidated part of town. She was following the directions that she had gotten second hand from the lady in the doctors office. A puffy faced woman whose obvious wealth explained why she was able to pay for the best plastic surgery Sunnydale had to offer. 

Her trip took her to an abandoned part of town. Had she brought Dawn with her The younger Summers would have recognized this as prime real estate for vampires. They loved areas like this, filled with emanations of despair and hopelessness. Even the hobos and transient steered clear of this block and the building she was in front of most especially. 

It reached into the sky like a dying clutching hand. From the outside boards could be seen blocking all sunlight access into the building. Celeste walked fearfully up the steps to the huge metal front door. She knocked. The echo could be heard bouncing off hallways aged with dust and decay. She pushed on the door, which screeched open allowing daylight to stab at the dank hallway. Rats and other unmentionable vermin scattered down the hall. She walked down the hallway toward an open alcove at its debris-strewn end. 

An elevator old fashioned and being maintained by someone. There was only one place to go besides the ground floor. That was Up. she pressed on the button and the doors clanged shut. Grinding & clanking of gears signaled that the cage was raising upward. it finally pulled to a halt with a jerk and the doors slid open revealing a spectacle almost as depressing as the downstairs area. 

She stepped through the door and the elevator clanged shut behind her. The room was vast but low with the ceiling being only a foot or so above her head. Sunlight streamed through the slates that had been placed over the windows but instead of cutting the gloom they created more and stranger shadows from which things might appear at any second. 

She looked around the room and was sure that there was nobody here. Then she saw a flicker, and flash of movement so small and precise that she was sure that it had been her imagination. She looked at the point in the room where she had seen it but there was nothing just the rising cloud of dust from a floor. This didn't look like any Doctor's office she had ever seen. Had she been screwed over? 

"Is anybody home." she called into the gloom 

"Home is where the heart is, where is your heart little one so that we can cut it out and see for ourselves." The voice was scratchy. It came from a pallid figure that glided out of the gloom. He was dress head to toe in black including a long coat that dusted the ground beneath him. As he moved. Celeste cried out and backed away as the man moved forward. "Show us your pumper dearie, show us the dark soft places on the inside. We love the dark and the soft." his hands held a long ornate blade. Celeste could tell that this blade had been crafted to look good and kill people in an ugly fashion. 

"I'm sorry if I bothered you …I'm in the wrong place …please just let me leave."

"Leaving she is. Going before she has come. Wants what we can give but gives nothing in return for this we could just prune you." He was stalking relentlessly forward. 

A voice cut through the gloom. It had low cultured sound to it yet commanding. " Mr. Keene, my instructions were to find and guide not to find and harass." 

Keene shrank in on himself glancing nervously behind him "Keene plays, he plays games with the miss, not serious is Keene, never and no. Only at masters bidding does Keene move, does he speak, does he draw breath and keep breathing and such luxuries as master gives." 

Celeste watched as formerly menacing figure transformed into a fawning lapdog of a man. Genuflecting as large double door opened. Keene turned and gestured to the girl quickly as though eager to prove his loyalty. "Step quickly girly-girl Master has plans and schemes and dreams. Precious is his time not to be wasted it is." 

"Your attention to my time is admirable Keene, see to the girls refreshment and then leave us be." The man speaking was tall very tall. He stood in front of a bay window surrounded by flora of all types. Soft music played in the background in this room apparently a garden for all the plants that filled the room from floor to ceiling. Amidst the plants were statues. Figures locked in every conceivable pose. "My art, I hope that you are impressed."

"I've never seen anything like it." said Celeste her voice trembled as she watched Keene flit about the room always wondering when he would slip his leash and attack her. 

"I capture a moment of human existence and make it last." 

Celeste looked at the figures. At first, she thought the faces were frozen in orgasmic pleasure but she realized some were in pain. "The images are shocking? Terrifying? You ask did he imagine this…. Hold it in his mind and carve, chip, and break the surface till the what was in the mind was in the stone."

"This has got to be some of the best work I've seen."

"But you are also wondering did he work from still life. Force some model to wear that face till he was done carving." 

"I can't imagine anyone could do that." 

"You would be surprised at what a man can endure for his art." 

Keene stopped in front of her and silently pushed a cup of steaming tea into her hands. He did the same for the tall man and then he retreated from the room.

"Now that we are alone, We can speak honestly, you and I speak of what brought you to me." 

"I heard that you can do things, make a person beautiful. That's what I want. I want to be beautiful." 

"You want beauty but beauty comes from within. Surely, you know this. If you lack belief in yourself, you will never know true beauty and I can not give you belief in yourself.

'"That's a crock…about beauty I mean. Everyone says that it comes from inside but even if I feel better about who I am that doesn't change that I still look the same way. I want to be different." 

"You want to be better then you could ever be on your own." The tall man said wistfully 

"Yes. And I will do whatever I have to."

"Well then, perhaps we can help each other. What you seek is a thing not easily found and even more difficult to keep once obtained. Nevertheless, if you have the will. Then I can do much for you. Celeste allow me to introduce myself." The tall man stepped toward her and for the first time, she could see the man who spoke to her. His face was a warped and twisted affair including a wide gash that was his mouth and eyes that were totally irregular. "I am Vincent Clotho I am a maker of art and a crafter of form." 

***


	3. three

***

Dawn opened the door to Millers classroom to find the teacher sketching on the blackboard. The box sat in the centre of the desk surrounded by papers. Miller looked away from the board and his face brightened. "Just the girl I wanted to see." He gestured her toward the board so she could see that he had been sketching the surface of the box as though trying to translate the intricately laid out 3-d pattern into a 2d world.

"What is all this sir." She asked looking at the papers on the desk, also covered in writing. 

"This is nothing short of incredible. Did you know what this was when you got it."

"Honestly I have no idea how it ended up in my bag." She picked up one the papers that had historical information on it. "What are you doing with it Mr. Miller."

"I took a picture of the thing and ran an image recognition check over the Internet. What came back was nothing short of incredible. This is the Lament Configuration." 

"The wha?" she asked, mystified. 

"It has many names…LeMarchand's Box, the Cube Of Tears, The Box Of Shadows. The one thing that never changes is the story attached to it. That anyone that can solve the mysteries of the box will pass beyond this world of tears to a place of sensations beyond sensations." 

"Are you sure you should be fooling around with something like this Mr. Miller? It could be dangerous." She mentioned cautiously

"Please no rational person believes in legends like that. I just want to solve the box; test myself against a puzzle that is 200 years old." 

"I've seen things like this before they aren't always as harmless as they seem."

Miller stopped and looked indulgently. "Dawn do you really believe that the bogeyman will get you if you don't say your prayers." 

Dawn would later say that yes, she did believe that. Had seen proof of it and come within a hairs breadth of losing her life (such as it was) to The bogeyman and a hundreds things worse then that. What she actually said in that moment faced with a man she admired and who she wanted to like her was "well no Mr. Miller." 

They began to examine the box with Dawn making notes and Miller translating the information he was getting both from the net and from his tentative handling of The Black Box. Soon he began to move parts of the box tuning a switch here and moving a gear there. Despite its obvious age the mechanism inside the box moved with flawless precision, not a grinding gear to be heard it was like the thing was brand new. Dawn took her turn twisting the sliding switches across the surface of the box. At first, she just followed Millers directive but then as if calling to her something began to drive her fingers across the surface of the box. She mind gave her images of what the next configuration should be. Inevitably, she would be right. The two were about an hour into the project when as Dawn was twisting a switch, the box clicked and opened. A whole section rose up turned on its own and sank back into the body of the box leaving it seamless, undisturbed save for a new configuration, and an unearthly though still cubical shape. She dropped the box on the desk "How the hell did it do that." 

"Internal mechanism, obviously we are close. We can't stop now." Miller picked up the cube and began twisting it. He glanced at the board constantly following the calculations that he had made. He turned a switch and the box opened again parts of it shifting inside, then it closed. 

"There is one last set of combinations but I don't know what they are." He turned to Dawn "What do you think Summers. Finish it off. I've been watching you. You can do it. You are special you have what it takes" His tone would have been called seductive if the person he had been speaking to were not a teenaged girl. Dawn took the Box from him and turned it in her hands. 

Everything Dawn knew about Sunnydale told her that this was a bad idea. However, there was something in her blood calling to the box and the box was answering, telling her where her hands and fingers had to be placed. She began sliding her fingers across the surface of the box. Her hands were pressuring the box in just the right way. Internal gears snapped and adjusted by themselves. The box gave an almost musical whine and opened itself again twisting of its own accord. Shifting and turning as though her hand had been needed only to begin the process. Then as the last parts of the box settled into place, there was an audible sigh as though the world had been waiting for this moment. The curtains blew open as a gust of wind tore thought the room. Miller cast an annoyed glance at the window. "I closed the windows, did you open them again. Dawn?" 

Dawn looked up from the finished puzzle. "The window is still shut Mr. Miller the wind is not from outside…. I think it's from somewhere else." 

Shadows crept across the floor. An otherworldly chattering filled the darkened air. Miller looked around the room and backed away from the desk. He backed toward the walls but stopped when he bumped into someone. He cried out as he spun around to see who had invaded the empty room. Behind him was a squat obscenely fat figure, its face bleached a pale white, its lips drawn back in a twisted grimace that was miles short of being a smile. Across its eyes, as though bolted there was a pair of shades. Its belly revealed a gaping wound that it fingered distractedly as though testing it for sensation. He looked toward the corner farthest from the travesty of a fat man before him and caught sight of another figure thinner then the other, taller as well. Its bleached white head had two sightless puckers where its eyes had every right to be. Its mouth was pulled open in a frozen maw in which could be seen a set of jaws clicking endlessly. Dawn screamed realizing that the corners of the empty room were no longer empty. She darted away from the desk heading for the door but a hand clamped down on her shoulder pulling her to halt. Her eyes trailed up the arm to the form attached to it. A female looked at her, a smile creasing its lips that did not match the soulless look burning from her cold blue eyes. Rods pierced her flesh through the nasal cavity and cheeks. Chains cascaded downward to a second rod whose only purpose was to hold open the fleshly flaps of a throat wound. The female hissed apparently unaware that she should not have been able to speak with the wound on her throat. "Where are you going little one. You have to stay…we will show you a magic trick."

"And you will learn much Child." This last, from a fourth figure who stepped from the shadows Taller and regal looking, his burning eyes looked out from a bleached white head that had been tattooed or scarified with lines bisecting its entirety. From the intersections where each line met, a pin had been driven into the skull. Each pin protruded out giving his face the grotesque look of a pincushion. "We have such sights to show you." 

Miller sank to his knees. The female released Dawn who stumbled to the centre of the room. Who are you, What are you?" 

Your kind call us Cenobites." the female answered. "We are experimenters in the higher reaches of sensation." 

Angels to some, demons to others we conduct those whose desires brought them here, through the deeper mysteries of pleasure and pain." the Pinheaded Cenobite Declared. 

Dawn backed away from the four Cenobites hoping that she could get herself and the teacher out of the room. "Pain, Bad; Pleasure, good; No big mystery. I think we are done here you can go back to wherever now." 

"The box called to you and something within you called back. Explain this to us." The female smiled. 

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Dawn knew even as she lied that the Cenobites knew it was a lie. She knew exactly why the box called to her and knew what within her was calling back. She wished that it would shut the hell up. 

"Yes, it was her" Miller stood up backing away from her. "She was the one it was her that called to you." 

"Mr. Miller what are you doing?" she cried out feeling betrayed. 

"It was her, you saw She was the one holding the box when you arrived she was the one who called you please let me go and …and I won't say what I saw." 

"Ah Miller, to betray trust so easily, but then that must get easier after you've done it so many, many times." 

I don't know what you are talking about." Miller declared, his had twisted "Dawn tell them that they don't know what they are talking about." 

"I don't know what they are talking about." Dawn said, "what are you talking about." 

"What's wrong Miller." The female was taunting him. "She is special isn't she; One of your special girls, How many have there been? Isn't it a good thing that they don't ask questions here in Sunnydale? Not about the girl, you left in Granville. How old was she. You told her you would show her the secrets of world." 

"The world of flesh has many secrets Miller. Secrets that are ours to teach, Consider this an upgrade in your pedestrian views." The Pinheaded Cenobite glanced upward as chains dropped downward to entangle Miller and drag him a foot off the ground. "Like many before you, you mistakenly think that it is just hands opening the box which call to us. It is the desire and while it was her hands which opened the box. It was your desire the drove her to try." 

Dawn looked away from the struggling man. Were they lying? Was her teacher whom she had been alone with a few times some kind of sicko? What kind of evil town did she live in? 

"Don't worry child." The Female was holding her again. "Your time will come soon enough. Even now, I sense so much potential within you. Imagine taking a place among us. We can show you the highways and byways of Hell. The secret rooms and halls, the places you only think you can't imagine." 

She broke away from the female. "Get off me. You're not taking me anywhere." she snatched up the box. She brandished it in front of her. 

"Where do you think you can run to Dawn." The male spoke to her as if he was an indulgent and trusted counselor. "The schism is opened and before it has closed all who have tuned the key must go though the door." 

Dawn turned and ran, the box clutched in her hands. She tore open the door and dashed out into the hallway that had been altered. It was a gruesome funhouse parody of itself. She looked down the hallway trying to find someone, anyone who could help. That was when she saw …the thing. Her only vision of it before common sense screamed at her to start running was a five foot tall thing with its face set low to the ground and short powerful grasping arms and claws like a Tyrannosaurs Rex. It moved down the hall at speed. Dawn ran from the thing, faster then she had ever run before. She could hear the clutching of claws behind her and the snap, snap of powerful jaws. She saw a bright light ahead and she ran toward it hurling herself though it. 

She hit ground hard and rolled across the hard cement. She looked up to the bright light of the campus. She looked up and saw a few people who wondered why Little Dawnie Summers had just shoulder-rolled out of the front door of the school. No creature was chasing after her. She walked back to the door and looked through he glass. A hallway, Just like when she had arrived this morning. She looked at the box in her hands. In her head, she heard the voice of the male Cenobite. "Where will you go, That we won't find you. Who will take you in. You are tied to us and we to you. You will return to us, taste of our pleasures." 

Dawn was many things, stupid was not one of them. She had just used a puzzle box to open a doorway to hell and the beings within were staying until they could take her with them back to that realm. It was time to suck it up and do what every American teen at some point did in the face of overwhelming odds. Go running to Big Sister and hope that in the hustle and bustle of saving her life the fact that she had screwed up would go unnoticed.

***

Celeste startled when Keene yanked open the doors to the conservatory. "Master they are here they come. Flee we must or fight."

Victor looked around sharply. "You are mistaken."

Keene shook his head. "Can smell them, can sense them. The Order of The Gash has arrived. For us they come. For us they search."

"They will find nothing and they will obtain less. Go and prepare quarters I am not done with our client." 

Celeste settled back in her chair. "What was that about?"

"That was about the past. You my dear, however are about the future. Specifically how you will repay me for giving you one."

Celeste sighed. "I have money saved up and I have a savings bond I can cash in. that should at least get me started in the right direction." 

You and I both know that what you want from me is beyond considerations of money. You knew from the moment you sought me out that money would not be the currency that made this dream a reality." 

Celeste looked at the disfigured adept and then rose from the chair she walked in his garden to stand before one of his pieces. It was a man in a supplicant position she walked around the figure and saw something carved into his back. She looked closer. Words, that looked like a poem or a prayer. "What's this?" She asked 

"A still life based on a clients request. The words are a prayer old as the world and powerful too." Clotho stood behind her and stroked her hair as though testing it. " O Agonistes, dark deliverer, make me in the image of my enemies' nightmares. Let my flesh be the stuff from which you carve their terrors; let my skull be a bell, which sounds their death-knell. Give me a song to sing, which will be the song of their despair, and let them wake and find me singing it at the bottom of their beds." Celeste felt her eyes closing. Felt forces drawing around her. Victor continued. "Unmake me, unknit me, and transform me. And if you cannot do that for me, Agonistes, then let me be excrement; let me be nothing; less than nothing. For I want to be the terror of my enemies, or I want oblivion. 'The choice, Lord, is yours." 

"That sounds terrible. Celeste whispered quietly " like the prayer of someone with no hope." 

"Hope is an illusion Celeste it blinds and seduces but gives nothing in return for in the end, is it not actions that change our fates not sitting and wishing that things could be different." 

"Yes it is."

"Celeste It is not hope that brought you here, it is action. You have committed to the course already in your heart. You must be willing to do the impossible, The profane."

"What do I have to do." Celeste closed her eyes ready to offer all that she had to The Sculptor. 

"Find the thing that you love the most and bring it to me." The Sculptor stepped away from her. "Or bring me what it symbolizes I will know it when I see It. Bring it to me and I will give you a beauty more awesome and terrible then the world has ever known." 

Celeste looked up at the man and nodded. "You have my word on it." 

***


	4. four

***

The Door to the magic shop opened admitting a tall man in a long coat. Anya put aside the shipping forms she was filling out. This looked like a customer. They tended to bring with them Money and with vengeance no longer a part of her life Anya had turned her hand to acquiring as much as she could. She was as good at making money as ever she had been wreaking havoc on the wayward men of the world. "Hello Customer How are you today have you brought with you large sums of money?" 

The startled man blinked his dark eyes at her and ran his hands though his non-existent hair that had been cut short then shaved. People were often startled when Anya spoke to them. Anya pleaded ignorance of why that was the case. Anya suspected that Xander alone realized the truth. When she got people off their guard she immediately had an advantage over them that was as valuable as her powers once had been. 

"Actually I'm looking for directions." The man said "I m new in town and was looking for a place called…" he paused to look at a slip of paper. "Sunnydale High, would you know where I might find that?" 

Anya snorted. She was about to tell the man that the services she provided did not include giving directions to lost travelers; When the door exploded inward followed by a blond whirlwind that was Dawn Summers. She streaked to the counter asking "Anya. Buffy, Where is she?" 

"In the back, Willow and Xander are on the way why are you coming back from school so late were you in detention." 

"Sorta but not exactly." Dawn headed toward the back leaving the man looking quizzically at her.

"Cute kid. She is a real bundle of energy." He remarked off handedly.

"Yes she is" Anya noted and dismissed Dawn from her thoughts. "Now how much would it be worth…." 

"You did what?!" Came an insane scream from the back of the store. " How many times have we told you. Do not open doorways to.…"

"I didn't do it. it was Mr. Miller…I just kinda Helped." 

"Oh you just kinda helped, and while you were just kinda helping did it not occur to you that it would be kinda dangerous." Buffy and Dawn walked out of the back room area "How did you get your hands on the thing did you steal it, are we going to have to deal with this teen rebel phase again." 

"I did not steal it." Dawn slapped the box on the counter. "It was right there the last time I saw it. until I found it again in my bag."

Both The stranger and Anya took one look at the box and sprang backward crying out. "What is that doing here." they then turned as one looking at each other. "You know what that is…Of course I do."

The man was backing up and thus was surprised when the door opened admitting Xander and Willow who had been talking pleasantly up to that point. The man already startled by the box on the counter turned, took one look at Will and cursed. Willow for her part shoved Xander to the side and her eyes darkening as her hands assumed a first position for conjuring. "What the hell are you doing here." She demanded.

The stranger backed away. "I don't know what this is about, but I'm not letting that box fall into the hands of the likes of you and your kind. You have no idea what you are messing with." Xander saw the man's hands were surrounded by static discharges of reddish black. A weapon had appeared in Buffy's hands and she was angling for a clear shot at the stranger obviously this was about to become full-blown anarchy if something wasn't done quickly. 

"All right, all right everyone just calm down." Xander looked at the man. "Ok since you're new in town and therefore don't know; we try to avoid open mage war. It Cuts down on the cost of rebuilding this place. Now since Willis here is a pretty powerful witch and that is a Slayer behind you I think you might want to stand down." 

The stranger looked at Buffy and them more importantly at the sword in her hands that was almost but not quite pointed at him. He slowly placed his hands in his pockets. 

Xander than turned to Willow. Willis could you please refrain from liquefying our guest till we know who he is." At this, all eyes turned to the stranger who looked around the room again. My name is Dillon Hyles. I'm kind of a private Investigator. 

"Kind of…Meaning what exactly." Buffy asked suspiciously 

"Kind of -- meaning that While I still follow wayward husbands they are inevitable seeing a succubus. The run away kids I track have usually hooked up with some kind of demonic cult. Etc. etc." 

Willow brightened up slightly "Giles introduced me to a friend of his in England who does the same kind of thing, a John Constantine." She told the others. 

Dillon continued "I was surfing the net this morning in LA when I saw someone in Sunnydale looking for information about the Lament Configuration. Normally I would have ignored it. I mean if I guy wants to subject himself to the tortures waiting for him in Leviathan's realm that's his own danm business but I when I saw the guy was e-mailing from a school. Well condemning his own ass to hell is one thing but the thought of children ending up as Cenobite bait … I had to try and stop him. Or at least try and save the innocents that I could." 

You're covered in dark energy, the only way that could happen is if you are a dark mage." Willow said suspiciously. 

"What about you? You've got the stench of dark power coming off you." Dillon countered 

Anya realized the problem. "You have to look closer at her. She is in a state of cleansing. She recently went evil and now she is atoning. That's going to produce a few false readings if you're doing an aura read." 

Dillon looked at the red head intently for a moment and then blushed. "I'm sorry miss, it was wrong of me to jump to conclusions I guess your getting a little tired of that." 

Willow relaxed "Well what about you. Why are you surrounded by dark magic." 

"I'm not surrounded by dark magic. You're getting the read off the tattoos." He said. 

Willow looked at him mystified and the man pulled down his shirt collar to reveal a set of tattoos that encircled his neck completely. The shocked look Willow gave him only got more so as he proceed to reveal that the tattoos extended over his entire body from his feet all the way to his neckline by pulling up his shirt and pant legs. Willow did another scan and saw that indeed, he himself was reading as a champion, a good guy, but the tattoos themselves were quite evil. "Who would do something like that to you and why would you let them." she asked

"It's a long story. The short version of which is that at the time I had the chance to save an innocent and the cost was having this done to me. I figured it was an even enough trade. The girl was saved and I have the single coolest set of tattoos on the western seaboard." 

Willow looked closer at the design work. "I've seen this lettering before." 

"Well if you are a practitioner, you might have heard of the Demonicon." 

Buffy noticed that both Anya and Willow paled at this news. "What is that?" she asked warily

"It's an extra-dimensional Dark Text. Really, powerful spells and Highly Dangerous in the in the wrong hands. Willow said because only she could see the flow of text across his entire body. 

"Dangerous in anyone's hands." Anya mentioned edging away from the stranger until she noticed that it was taking her closer to the LeMarchand box sitting quietly on the counter. She backed away from that as well. 

Willow continued "The book can't even exist in this realm you have to pour its contents into someone and they become the vessel though which you work its magic." 

"So the girl you rescued…" Xander said the truth dawning on him 

"It was already too late for her but the demons promised they would let her go if I was willing to cut them a deal. I had no idea what having the words tattooed on my body would mean." 

"Most white lighters would kill him on sight. Dark mages would be looking to get their hands on him. The Demonicon would allow for use of really powerful spells." 

"Is there an upside to having that much evil magic tattooed on your body." Buffy asked 

"Well there is the mystic knowledge that comes free. Think of it as having a library of evil knowledge in my head. All I have to do is concentrate on any one thing. And the knowledge of how to do it comes to me and I get in to Goth clubs no problem."

"That's cool." Xander muttered. I have to get me some cool powers. 

Dillon snorted." There is a trade off for that knowledge. Every time I use it or any of the power that comes with it, I risk the dark magic over taking me. And, I don't get the break your friend does. Cleansing spells, blocking spells they don't do anything." 

"So you aren't going to try and harm us and since you seem to have a beating heart in the right place I don't see us harming you. Why the box …what's so big about this box." 

Willow for the first time looked at the LeMarchand Key and gave a scream." What The hell **is** that doing here" 

Dawn recounted the tale of what had happened at the school. When she was done, Dillon asked her a question. "What did they look like…the things that you saw. What did they look like?" 

She described the four Cenobites. When she described the Pinheaded Cenobite, Xander snickered. when she was done the tattooed man whistled. "You don't kid around do you. 

You know what this things are." Buffy asked appraisingly. 

"Hell has a hierarchy, a power structure. Wage slaves at the bottom middle management and upper management. The four she describes represent the cream of Leviathan's army of dark warriors. The younger ones call The Pinhead: Our God, The Flayed One. The rest have devoted their un-life to shredding countless souls. Between the four of them they have consumed and destroyed any number of people who were stupid enough to buy into the promises of the box without reading the fine print." 

"They have their own twisted honor code." Anya supplied. "If you can cut a deal with them they will honor the letter of the deal." 

Xander was mystified "Why would anyone want to cut a deal with guys like that.".

Dillon shrugged. "What would you do to stay alive, How far would you go. Who would you offer up to Suffer in your place." 

Buffy nodded "Ok you all know the situation. Xander, mount up, you know what we will need. Willow your running magical support. Whatever they throw At us I want to be prepared." 

Xander nodded in response and began gathering an eclectic selection of weapons including Crossbows and Swords while Willow headed to the stacks of books. If there were a magical defense against the Cenobites, she would be the one to find it. 

Dillon straightened. "I'd like to come along I know I'm the new guy and all but I might be able to help."

"No offence Mr. Hyles but I don't know you from a hole in the ground and while your heart is in the right place. I need to have people at my back I can trust. For all we know you might have been manipulated into coming here."

Dillon nodded "I guess I have to take that."

In a few moments Buffy, Xander and Willow had left with Dawn at their heels. Anya turned and appraised Dillon critically "Come on we should get ready."

"Ready, ready for what?"

"Well if things go as they normally do not only will those three make the situation worse; but some hideous second problem will pop up that will require us to deal with both at the same time." 

***


	5. Five

***

The doors to the school were of course locked by the time the small strike force arrived. Dawn looked at the edifice rebuilt on the same ground as the old school that Buffy had destroyed two years ago. The girls stepped back and looked at Xander. He shrugged his shoulders. He had been in charge of the crew that had rebuilt the school. He pulled from a pocket a set of skeleton keys one of which was to the front door. 

"And folks tonight's lesson is never believe a crew chief when he tells you that he didn't make copies of every key in and out of the place." Xander smiled and fitted the key to the lock. Pushing open the door, the warriors stepped across the threshold. Buffy's prompting look at Willow produced a negative response. Wherever the cenobites were, they were hiding the effects well. Their magic was isolating them from the mundane school. The trio of heroes stalked down the hallway watching for any signs of trouble. They team arrived at last at Miller's Classroom. 

"All right this is where we split up. Dawn and Xander you stay with me. Willow you concentrate on keeping the way open. They will try to trap us in here. 

"Remember." Willow reminded her. "They don't want to kill Dawn or any of us for that matter they want us to suffer."

"And would someone explain why that is the best news I can look forward to hearing tonight." Xander muttered 

"Because they can't hear you screaming if you're dead." Buffy snapped and then tried the door to the classroom, which swung open. 

The scene inside was horror show. Chains with hooks hung from the ceiling swinging in a breeze that couldn't be coming from the windows because at some point they had been removed. In their place was a chalkboard that covered three walls of the classroom. It was covered by arcane math formulae and in the midst of it was Miller. He was naked; weights had been attached to various parts of his body by hooks. As Xander and Buffy stepped closer they could see that the area in front of the board had a vented floor under which could be seen coals glowing hot with fire. The man's feet were by now black. Instead of screaming in pain, he was talking excitedly to himself. 

"Miller we've come to get you out of here." Buffy said to the man

"Out, no, no I can't do that not yet I'm so close." 

"Close to what " Buffy Asked 

"A solution…you see they took pity on me and if I can show them that all the pain I caused my students over the years doesn't amount to very much they will let me go." He gestured to the board. " Dawn would you say that me calling on you when you obviously had not studied caused you a little stress or a lot?"

Dawn looked at the man and replied hesitantly. "A lot "

"Damn I thought so. Could you give me a number figure on that? Never mind I'll just have to start the calculations over again." He went to the far side of the room and began scratching at the board. Occasionally he would dip a sharpened tool into the wounds all over himself and it was with his own blood that he was scratching out a solution to his misery math. 

The three of them went onward. Xander quickly confirmed that the hallway they where travelling was on none of the blueprint for the school. "That means the classroom is now a part of Leviathan's world." Buffy said recalling the information Willow had given them. "Which means the cenobites could be anywhere. So, stick close and be careful." 

The hallway opened in to a room with alcoves set in the wall.. As the three watched a slab pushed out of the one of the alcoves. A female form shifted erotically under a shroud. Her moans were soft and needy. "I think I like this room." Xander said watching the form writhing on the slab. 

"You like huh?" Buffy asked sarcastically. Well since it's you they must be either demons, the undead, magically dangerous and unstable. 

"Or Faith." Dawn finished off quietly. 

Xander's response was none verbal, which made Buffy's; move to cover Dawn's ears even more comic. 

"Language Xander, Language." Buffy teased as she moved toward the girl. Yanking the sheet off the lithe form revealed a decayed corpse. Dawn gave a little scream and hugged close to Xander. They were interrupted by the snide laughter of the rooms only other _living_ occupant… Huddled in a corner was handsome man with the five o'clock shadow that made him look sexy as opposed to scruffy 

The Man. Stepped forward "Don't feel too bad boy. That's the point of this place. All tease no please."

"Who are you, what are you doing here."

I could ask you the same but I'm too busy being glad you aren't fantasy. Cotton, Frank Cotton is my name."

"What are doing here Frank." Buffy looked at the handsome man up close and noticed him looking at her and Dawn. The lust etched on his face was plain to all. 

"It was a mistake, a frame up. The cenobites they tricked me and left me here. But you'll can help me won't you. I'd be grateful, no doubt about that and show you the way. You are trying to find your way out of here aren't you." 

"Actually we are doing ok on our own thanks very much."

"Well then you can let me come with you, you never know when that extra hand will be useful in a crisis." There was a note of desperation in his voice and something else. Anger? No, something else her female instincts were picking up. A tone in his voice and a look in his eye that set off the wiggins in her. 

"Why would the cenobites think that this was a punishment for you." 

"Who can figure them out, they aren't human…they are monsters, would you really leave an innocent at their mercy." 

"Buffy remembered something both Dillon and Willow had mentioned as they prepared for departure earlier that evening. "There are no innocents in that place. You're there because you deserve to be or because you choose to be." 

Buffy looked around the room with its slabs pushing in and out of the walls each one bore a shifting erotic form that no doubt would be a corpse upon examination. 

"I don't think so." 

"Buffy, we can't leave him here. This place is a nightmare." Xander muttered as he looked around the room. Noble guy that he was, he could just about picture what Cotton's torment was like

"Xander it's my call and I say he's not coming."

Xander was about to argue the point when Frank snarled "Just like a woman, give you a little power and you use it to torment a man, try and destroy him. Well Frank Cotton is no victim and if you won't help me leave, then you can help me in other ways." He rushed Buffy who grabbed him and pivoted, throwing him to the ground he cried out "Oh yeah that's the way. Frank likes it, rough."

"Then you won't mind this." She snarled. She then kicked and punched Cotton until he fell to the ground. "Look at me and mine, think about me and mine; and what I do to you will make this place seem like a day at the spa."

Frank watched the trio file out of the room a smile on his face. He had not been lying when he said he know the way. The way they were taking would lead them right into danger. Another slab pushed out of the wall with a familiar form writhing on top of it. "I'm waiting for you Uncle frank." the girl under the shroud whispered. Frank Cotton turned away from the sight. "Bitch" he snarled at someone who could not hear him or care even if she could. 

***

The trio came to a junction. Buffy shrugged her shoulders and turned to the right, but Dawn pulled to a stop. "I don't know Buffy I'm not sure that's the right way." 

"There is no such thing as a right way, here Dawn. How can you tell one from another." 

"I don't know, it's just that way …feels wrong somehow. Like my spider sense was tingling or something."

"By the pricking of my thumb something wicked this way comes." Xander quoted quietly. 

"Dawn I'm sure its safe." She looked at both Xander and Dawn looking at her. "But, we will go the other way if you are sure. Just let me check it out first." She peered around the corner and saw a hallway just like those they had passed through. "Guys I'm seeing nothing to be afraid of here she called out and turned back and ran smack into a wall. "What the hell." Where the way back to her friends had yawned moments ago there now was a plain blank wall. She pounded on it calling out for Dawn and Xander. 

"They can't hear you. Not that they would want to in a few moments." The voice was low and cold and as she turned, she could see a figure stepping out of the shadows. It was one of the Cenobites. From its appearance, this was The Pin Headed Cenobite. "After all the sound of suffering can be so distressing. To any, save professionals like ourselves." 

***


	6. six

***

The ringing of the door to the shop caused Dillon and Anya to look up from their studies. "Who could that be at this hour?" Dillon asked her. He closed the arcane text he'd been studying 

"Maybe the guys are back." Anya said as she headed toward the door.

"According to you, they would have the devil himself at their heels if they made it back. Don't tell me you were exaggerating." The man joked 

"You have not been here long enough or you wouldn't think it was a joke." Anya looked out into the street. "It's one of Dawn's little friends the mousy looking one who whines about her looks all the time."

"TMI madam TMI, if I can get out of this town without becoming involved with the soap opera that is your lives here I'll paint myself lucky." 

Anya stuck her tongue out at him and then unfastened the door. "Its late and Dawn isn't here you should go home."

I'm sorry Ms Jenkins but I was supposed to meet up with Dawn…about some homework and since she isn't at home." the child said pleadingly 

"Well we are doing grown up boring things here. Stuff that would be of no interest to you." Anya insisted. 

The girl put on the best pout she could manage and eventually Anya relented. She sat at the table piled high with books. 

Dillon slipped away from the table, heading for the stacks. Anya met him there when she had insured that the young girl would neither touch anything nor read any of the texts. 

"Explain to me again why Buffy took her sister along." Hyles asked 

"In case The Cenobites are locked on to Dawn…. If they are tracking her, better they have to go through Buffy, then come here searching for her. I can't say I'm not altogether sad about that. This place gets wrecked way too often dealing with these little crisis's." Anya griped 

"Little crisis, you call the unloosing of the Cenobites a little crisis. I'm dying to know what gets your blood pumping if this is just -- a little crisis." Dillon muttered incredulously 

Anya shrugged her shoulders. "Well the Hell god was pretty hectic. In fact, Glory's minions wrecked this place a few times. Of course it belonged to Giles so it wasn't really my problem then but still it bothers me"

Dillon did a double take. "Glory, you are the guys who took down the Hell Goddess. I'm impressed, they talk about that one in some pretty out of the way places." 

"Well it was much scarier in person. Her chasing us around town always screaming about The Key, The Key, she was nuts." 

"I heard the Slayer lost her life to that one. Why didn't she just toss the key through the portal that would have closed the gates and no harm done? Plus the key would be lost in the Places In-between for all eternity. You can't get safer then that."

"Well she was all attached to Dawn at that point so there was no talking her out of it. Do you know she actually threatened to kill us if we so much as looked at Dawn the wrong way." 

"Dawn, what has Dawn to do with the key. Was she wearing it or something." 

"What you mean you don't know…. I thought you could see through spells and auras"

"Yeah when I concentrate. But, what does that have to do with…" suddenly Dillon realized the import of what Anya was hinting at and cursed loudly

"Quiet the annoying teen will hear us."

"Are you serious, Dawn is The Key, made flesh. We have to get after Buffy and the others and bring them back here right now."

"Why I'm sure that they can protect Dawn."

"Are you willing to risk everything on that faith…the one thing that Leviathan wants more then anything else is to expand his realm and bring order to what it sees as chaos. If the Cenobites get Dawn and twist her as they have so many others, she would become the means for Leviathan to spread itself across the multi-verse. It would no longer need the LeMarchand Keys or anything else. Dawn, or whatever she became, would open doorways to world upon world. The cenobites would flow through those doorways like a river. Coming after them would be the tortured souls. The ones who have been sitting around Leviathan's world with nothing to do but dream of what it would be like to inflict their pain and torment upon a world of innocents." 

"Buffy would give her life to stop that from happening."

"You just said Buffy threw herself into a portal rather then risk Dawn. Can you honestly say that if push came to shove she wouldn't make the same choice." 

A noise cut into their conversation. The two turned to see Celeste looking at them. In her hand was the LeMarchand key. 

"Put that down." Anya shouted slowly 

"You have no idea what you are screwing around with." Dillon said moving toward the girl who backed away from him.

"Tell Dawn I'm sorry, but the Sculptor said he would make me beautiful if I brought him something valuable, more the life. And she wanted this thing back pretty badly." The girl turned and ran to the door throwing it wide and streaked into the night.

"How much do you think she heard."

"I'm thinking that anyone who will take a LeMarchand box for payment will know what The Key is what it can do." Anya snapped and she ran for the door with Dillon racing behind her. 

Celeste fled into night. She had no idea what the box was; or why the shopkeeper and strange guy were saying those things about Dawn. The only thing that mattered though was her goal. When she was beautiful, she could have all the friends she ever wanted. Money, influence, power all of it would be there for her, all she had to do was get back to Clotho's sanctuary. 

She fled in the direction of a group of youths. She figured what was the harm in a little misdirection. She cried out as she ran up to them. "Help me please, those people are chasing me," she said to the person at the head of the group.

"Really, well you don't have to be afraid anymore. They won't hurt you." His face blurred and changed. His mouth sprouted fangs and his eyes became more bestial. "That's going to be our pleasure." 

The rest of the vampire gang hooted and hollered. Some changed faces to match their leader. As the group moved to surround Celeste, Anya and Dillon caught up with them. 

Dillon looked at the crowd of bloodsuckers. "In the event we survive this, you'll tell me please, why a town with a vampire Slayer, still has Vampires?" 

"Cause it's a Job with a future?" Anya retorted 

"Good point." He said as the crowd rushed them

Anya had been learning from Xander how to defend herself so she could hold her own. She was surprised when Dillon after a split second was throwing punches left and right. Somehow he eventually got his hands on a stake and began stabbing at his opponents dusting them one by one. Nevertheless, for every one the duo put down two would raise in their place and in tribute to Anya's comparison. They seemed to stream out of the woodwork appearing like vermin to surround the three humans. Dillon was growing tired and could see that Anya was also slowing. The sheer numbers they were fighting were forcing the energy from their bodies. 

Then Dillon saw him. A black clad angel striding out of the dark moving swiftly toward them. Any who touched him died quickly. Some attacked him singly others tried to gang up on him, but it never slowed him down. The single fighter moved with grace swiping his blade through the air, Cutting swiftly and surely. Vampires found themselves handless in one breath, headless in the next. His eyes burned as he approached the tightly packed group of humans. The crowd of vampire pulled back; Dillon stuck out his hand in greeting. "Thanks, I don't know who you are but you saved us." 

The man nodded turned to the child crouched on the ground. "Found your payment you have. Secured for Master Clotho, his fee." 

Celeste nodded 

Then leaving we are." Keene suddenly backhanded Dillon viciously sending him crashing in to the crowd of mystified vampires.

Anya dashed after the swiftly departing pair and bodychecked the tall man. He cursed her and swung his blade around. The sound it made as it narrowly missed Anya as she jumped back was sharp. Dillon punched his way clear of the team of vampires that had hold of him. Keene turned and looked the man coming toward him. He then snarled at Anya. Rearing backward Keene cried out "Agonistes guide my hand." He threw his blade, which spun and glittered through the night. It slashed through the throats of several vampires as it spun. It homed in the Tattooed detective slashing at his arms before spinning clear. Then there was a sickening thud. The glittering thing had lodged itself in Anya's side. She looked at it as if it was a strange and foreign thing. Keene held out his hand and the blade flew to his hand like a falcon returning from a hunt. Dillon looked at his arms. The blade had slashed at the sleeves of his jacket. However, his arms remained uncut. 

"Cursed words protect you cursed one, but they also bar you from aiding the girl …die she will, unless dark magic you would use." Keene sneered as he and the girl swept away. The vampires scattered as one of the piles of dust littering the street belonged to the leader. Dillon raced to Anya's side and probed gently at the wound. As his hands neared the deep cut, he felt an all too familiar buzz. Keene was right the wound would not close without magical assistance and he no longer possessed the ability to use the magic that might help. That left him with the option of using dark magic to save her and that was a costly option. "So Dillon" he thought to himself. "Is the life of a stranger worth the cost to your soul." 

***


	7. seven

***

There is a story that you might believe or not. It is of a man. His name was Eliot Spencer. Once he believed that he lived in a good world, a safe world a world that made sense. Then he went to war. On the fields of Europe surrounded by proof of the inhumanity of the human creature, Eliot did things to save his life that most sane men forget. Eliot was sane but he couldn't forget. Not when fat men in best dress uniforms were calling him a hero. Not when he was being praised by the dying even as the accusing eyes of the dead chased him through the blasted landscape of his nightmares. 

He sought contrition. In the whorehouses of the North Country, far from the laws of civilization, He let them do things to him that sickened the most experienced among them. One of them, a woman named Black Betty had known every brutality the male sex can inflict. She was an expert in returning that pain a hundred fold. She set to work on him and after six solid hours came out of the room weeping. She said that no man, regardless of his crimes deserved what Spencer was doing to himself, had demanded she do to him. 

Then he went East to their opium dens. Spencer carved a new legend for himself there. His capacity for drugs became a thing of myth. Yet each morning he awoke from his pallet, his senses undulated. The pains of his war memories just as sharp and clear as after the first draw of smoke. 

Such men easily find the LeMarchand key and Spencer was no different. He found the key and unlocked the doorway to hell. The cenobites played with him for days. First the low level tortures and then the high-grade stuff. Eventually, Spencer was laid before the favorite son of Leviathan. As The Favorite Son looked into the eyes of this broken bleeding thing that was more scar tissue then man. He knew had found the soul he had lusted for all these centuries. They melded together then Spencer and Favored Son, the thing that was born was so much more then either had been separately. The young ones called him Pinhead. The young ones learned to scream that day; scream as the humans they tortured could not scream. For Spencer you see had been looking for punishment for his survival. It was only by becoming the thing that he is to this day that he saw the truth. Survival is not an e-ticket pleasure ride sometimes, just sometimes. The dead and dying are the lucky ones. They get off easy. 

***

Buffy had seen all manner of demon; knew their shape and their strength. The Thing before her carried himself differently. It had none of the swaggering bravado that had allowed her to defeat so many. This one just stood partially in shadow taking her in as if she was a work of art he was gazing at, or a blank page awaiting his greatest masterpiece. "A slayer, it has been so long since we tasted of the pleasures of a slayer." His cold voice hissed 

"Let me guess this is bit where I shiver in terror cause you have obviously faced a Slayer before."

"As opposed to my part in your drama where I pose and rant about my plan to usher in the apocalypse." " The pinhead stepped further into the light. "Please, we should be beyond such petty trivia, you and I."

"Why do they always want to talk me to death." Buffy sneered. 

"Who said anything about killing you." The pins along the front of the cenobite's head exploded outward and sped toward the Slayer. Buffy threw herself to one side. Her only warning of further attack was a hiss of movement in the shadows her sword swept out and knocked aside a chain that tried to impale her. Then another shot at her, and then more, she danced and spun like a whirling dervish. At last, one of the chains caught on the sword in her hand. Before she could remove it, three more had wrapped around the blade, then they all pulled in different directions. Her sword snapped and fell to the floor. 

"Poor Buffy," The cenobite sighed "Still playing out the pathetic ploys of old men too frightened of their own shadows to recognize the horror of sending young women to their deaths." 

"At least I'm not a lap dog to some Hell God." Buffy defiantly retorted

"Whom do you serve? What altar was your childhood sacrificed on."

"Speaking of sacrifices I'll thank you to stay away from Dawn."

"Ah yes Dawn, so much potential she will need molding but then, what youngster doesn't. With her flesh bent to the will of Leviathan. Her future will be filled with limitless vistas, dark visions and untold pleasures."

"You're not hearing me I'm not letting you destroy my sister."

"Leviathan doesn't want the girl dead. Our Lord wants her for her inner qualities. Her blood and bones are a map of the universe. Once stripped of the humanity the monks forced upon her, she will be so much happier. You all will." 

You have to get through me first." 

"… Or we could just separate you, leaving Dawn with no protection other then the well meaning but ultimately useless boy." Buffy paled, The Cenobite laughed to see her discomfort. "Typical so caught up in the fantasy that all it all about the Slayer. We've watched you since the moment Dawn brought us here. We allowed you to penetrate this far for one purpose alone. This place is all about experience and sensation."

"I'll get to Dawn and then I'll get to your precious God." 

"Dawn is the prize but you graciously provided a bonus. It is so rare that we get real innocence in this place. I have given Alexander's fate over to my High Priestess. She will ensure the boy is well taken care of." The Pinhead faded into the Shadows Buffy leapt after him, but he was gone. 

"Come back and face me, or is the little cheerleader too much for the big bad Cenobite." 

"Poor Dawn must be lonely by now and we have things to teach her." Three cenobites stepped from alcoves and barred her way down the corridor. "However, My acolytes need practice in the ways of pain and the capacity of Slayers to endure pain is legendary." The three shuffled forward giggling maniacally. Buffy stood her ground they wanted to know about pain. Well she was all over that, A Slayer could make it all about the pain. 

***

Celeste and Keene arrived at Clotho's studio. She was ushered into the inner sanctum where she found the artisan staring at a piece of stone. 

I'm trying to find the image within. The form that must be released from the stone." He turned from the slab of stone and approached her his eyes burning with anticipation. "What have you brought me?" 

Celeste held out the box with trembling hands. "All of Dawn's friends was obsessing over this I figure it must be impotent to her."

"Important, oh very important. Where is Dawn?" 

"I don't know Ms Jenkins and the other guy they were saying stuff about her being out somewhere and something about a key "

"This other guy who was he "

"I don't know " Celeste shrugged 

Clotho nodded and turned to his manservant "Keene."

Keene shuffled forward "Know him I do not; rumors only. He carries dark words on his flesh. Yet avoids using the power he does. The Cursed One he may be "

"The Cursed One …how intriguing and he fought with the Slayer's friends." Clotho paused at his news then turned back to the girl. 

Celeste answered quickly "Yeah, they called Dawn's sister the Slayer and said Dawn was the Key …what does that mean?"

"It means that you have more then earned my services." Clotho's voice was amused 

"You will make me pretty " Celeste asked him pleadingly 

"I will give you a beauty more terrible and awesome then any you have known. When I have finished you will tell me more of this Dawn. "

Keene shifted his weight nervously "Master the Gash would have the girl for their own surely we risk the wrath of Leviathan should we take what he claims for his own "

Clotho gazed into space "I lost much to Leviathan I will take in equal measure what he stole from me. Let the hell god come let his minions smash themselves on the rocks of my power. Agonistes has freed me from the power of Leviathan. His terrible grace will give me the means to escape this Vail of tears for better climes. The girl, Keen, is the key. The door she will open will grant us access to worlds beyond worlds. She just needs molding and shaping. "

"And me I'll get what I was promised " Celeste insisted. She cared nothing for Clotho's drama. All that she wanted was the beauty he alone could give. 

"Yes child your reward will be great indeed, Keen leave us "

The pale man shuffled from the room fingering his blade as though yearning for something to slash and cut. He closed the doors leaving the both of them alone. Keene was relieved not to witness the girl's transformation. He listened long enough to hear a haunting melody begin to play. Clotho liked to work to music. Shortly thereafter, the cries of pain also began. Clotho hated using anything to dull the pain. It was a counter point to the music. Besides often the screams brought their own kind of inspiration 

***


	8. eight

***

Xander and Dawn walked down a hallway. Cut off completely from The Slayer, they decided to backtrack. If separated, Buffy would head toward Willow and the way home. 

Xander had complaints about this course of action feeling that Buffy would need rescuing. Dawn pointed out that they were the ones in greatest danger. Buffy could take care of herself. Dawn was in no lethal danger; the cenobites would avoid killing her if possible. . Xander, on the other hand, was an unknown and while the chances were good that he too would only be tortured and not killed, pushing of the luck was not a choice idea. 

Thus they backtracked which is when both adventurers realized that the maze had done more then cut them off from their strongest fighter. It was shifting around them constantly. Dawn felt like she could find the way back if she tried but They both agreed that whatever juju she was tapping into would only bring the baddies to them. They walked down one hallway emerging into a vast open area. 

The space was impossibly large. The ceiling was undetectable from where they were and the ground, if there was one, was so far away that cloud cover obscured it. In the centre of the room was a huge Black diamond. It was slowly revolving. From time to time dark colored flares would burst from the facets of the smooth surfaced monstrosity. 

"What the hell is that." Xander asked in awe. 

"A big black spinning thing." Dawn deadpanned. Xander stepped closer to the edge. Whistling he tried to see to the bottom of the chamber. A flare thrown off by the Black Diamond arced out and struck him. He reeled backward as Dawn screamed. He clutched at himself as though a numbing clawing cold were tearing at him. 

"Xander, Come on Xander stay with me. Please be alright." Dane hugged close to him trying to make sure he was ok.

"Why do you bring chaos with you into my sanctuary." The voice was, and yet was not Xander. His eyes were black and hostile 

"What are you talking about, who are you and what have you done with Xander." 

"You have brought flesh to my perfect place. Those who guarded you have corrupted your essence. You nature must be re-educated with the perfection of order." 

Dawn stood back from the thing that was wearing Xander's face and speaking with his voice. "You leave my friend, leave him alone now." 

"Child, I have been twisting the will of flesh to my purposes for longer then his race has existed. Believe me My children will find you soon and when they have stripped you of your weak flesh mindset, you will rejoice in serving the will of Leviathan." Xander's eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground shivering. 

Xander is it you?" Dawn asked fearfully 

"I hope so, I'd hate to think anyone else was feeling this bad." Xander replied weakly 

"What happened to you?"

"Don't know, one second I was here with you and then I was on a magic carpet ride through my memories with all the bad parts in 5.1 surround sound."

"You were possessed, you were speaking for someone else, I think it was the entity that runs this place."

Did I eat a bug, I'll be pissed if I ate any bugs."

There was no insect eating but you did threaten to turn me into one of those things that live here." 

Xander got to his feet weakly and looked out over the vast abyss toward the rotating Black Diamond. I think that is what you were talking to." 

A big rock, you were possessed by a big rock."

Xander nodded grimly "we better get out of here. I think we may have way underestimated the amount of whup-ass this thing could unleash on us all." 

"How do we get out."

"Your juju "

"I thought we were hiding from the bad guys."

"Dawn the bad guys know we are here. I want to get you out right now. If we can't find Buffy then we have find the way out and hope that Buffy is heading there or is already there." 

Dawn nodded and closed her eyes. It was like before with the Box. Her mind reached out and something reached back. Suddenly it was there. Every highway, byway, alcove and corridor in Hell and shining in front of her, the way out. She began to move toward it. She could sense the shifting maze of Hell changing shape around her but the way out never wavered. It always lay before her.

"Can you see it" Xander asked 

"Uh huh, it's easy to find. Problem is everyone forgets this place is all about order. The pathway out is a straightforward one. Once you find it you just stick to it and you find out way out of the maze." 

"Cool, you think you can find your sister." 

Dawn frowned as she tried to concentrate. "No, it's not working I can see places but not people. Why is this working now of all times?" 

Xander shrugged "maybe there is something about this place that you respond to."

"Maybe I should let them have their way with me turn me into whatever it is they want me to be."

"What do you want to be?"

"I don't know."

"Well think about it this way. It you could have anything you wanted, be any place you wanted were would you be."

"At home with Mom And Dad and Buffy and we are all a family again." 

Sounds to me like Key or no key you have your destiny mapped out already. I guess the universe will just have to adapt to the Dawn-ster. Not the other way around." 

Dawn hugged him then and they set off with Dawn propping up the still unsteady Xander. Their steps took them past several corridors. Many pathways seemed tempting to Xander. They always looked like the way out was just around the corner but each time such a pathway presented itself Dawn would strengthen her hold on him taking him onward. They at last came to a turning. Down the hall was a Cenobite. The female Dawn remembered from before. At her side was a strange creature that looked somewhat like a dog. Dawn and Xander's minds refused to speculate on what the fused creature of flesh and terror had been before The Cenobites got their hands on it. 

"Leaving so quickly. But there is so much for you to see and do yet." The Woman hissed 

Xander shook off Dawn and stood up. "Dawn when I move, you start running. And don't stop till you back in the shop." 

"I'm not leaving you." 

"Buffy will save me. And if you could tell her I said that, when you see her. That would be nice. Now go." 

The beast leapt forward and Xander swung his axe hard taking the thing in flight. It burst off the ground at him and he was then using his axe as much to guard his throat as to strike at the hell beast. Dawn backed up then turned racing up the corridor then off to the side she headed toward freedom. She cried out when she ran into a second body, but it was just her sister. The two girls picked themselves off the ground. "Where is Xander?"

"Back there, he told me to run for it. One of those things was attacking us and he wanted me to make a break for it." 

Buffy turned and looked back up the corridor as though searching for a sign that she would be forgiven for the choice she was going to make. 

Lets go, what ever this thing it wants you and it wont take no for an answer."

"What about Xander?" 

Ironically, as long as you are free Xander is safe. They won't kill him or hurt him badly, as long as there is a chance they can get you back. But we need a way to beat this thing."

Buffy dragged Dawn the rest of the way. They burst out into the classroom. Willow was straining against a force that was trying to force the door to the class closed Buffy and Dawn dived thought the door which slammed behind them. 

Where is Xander." willow asked 

"Back there, we need a better plan before we try and get to him. These things want Dawn and they know what she is and what she can do." 

***

Pinhead strolled into a secret antechamber in Leviathan's realm, A room more private then any other. It was the personal space of his High priestess. Of those who found their way here, none had left it under their own power. He looked at his most trusted acolyte. "The slayer and her friends are formidable. To penetrate as far as they did and then escape our lord will be most displeased." 

"You will recapture them." it was a statement of fact. Her master of the Flayed Ones would recapture them and twist them all to the will of the Hell God. 

"To have the Key and a slayer bent to our Lord's will would be a great thing. Leviathan's rewards would be great." 

"And the thanks of those already serving our lord?" 

"My thanks are his thanks." 

"You have already honored me much this day. I cant thank you enough for giving the boy to me."

"How is he 

So much pain and hate in such a tiny form. It was sometime before I could find something that would impress his jaded soul. Living near the Hellmouth spoiled him. 

Well have your fun his friends will return soon enough; once they have seen the futility of resisting our lords will they will crumble as all flesh crumbles. 

Pinhead swept from the room and the Female went back to heating foot long surgical pins. Her favorite material to work with. "Your friends have abandoned you Alexander, But merciful Leviathan already hears your cries that they return. Soon they will be here with us and they will suffer as you have suffered. Wont that be nice tell me how nice that would be." She gestured and the massive nest of chains and hooks holding Xander Harris suspended from the ceiling lowered so that she could stroke his face. 

"Buffy will kick your ass three ways from Sunday, then she going to do the same to the walking pincushion out there."

"Ah your faith in your friends is a weakness." 

"And your taste for George Lucas dialogue is yours."

"Well then let me teach you the language of Pain, that is so much easier to understand." 

"No need I'm getting pretty fluent over here."

"You know Alexander, the problem with women of your world is their vanity prevents them from seeing, a man's deepest desires are often key to finding the things that he fears the most. Fortunately for you, I have no such vanity. "

Her hands worked with the front of her dress as though unzipping it Xander at first was looking away because he didn't want to see what was underneath. But far from disrobing it was as though she was peeling off the form she was wearing like a ball gown. Now he watched as she stepped from the debris of the cast off skin. Where the female cenobite had stood moments before now stood Buffy, but a Buffy dressed as the Female had been dressed. The long flowing gown sewed to the flesh. She allowed him to take in the transformation. "If at anytime you feel a need to call out her name. Don't hesitate…this is all for your benefit." She picked up one of the needles and started toward him. 

Being tortured by Buffy, even a replica was a torment beyond any Xander could imagine. At least that was what he was thinking until the first of the dozen pins went into his body. 

***


	9. nine

***

When the girls arrived at the magic shop an acrid stench fouled the air and wrinkled Dawn's nose. Willow could ID most herbs and spices and knew two things right away that whoever they were making for was knocking on deaths door and that the maker of the brew had the mix slightly off. The girls looked at the table where lay Anya under a sheet. Beside her in a brazier was the foul smelling brew.. 

Buffy was to the point. "What happened?" 

Dillon came up from the basement carrying bottles that obviously contained more the extract he was using on Anya. "You are back." He looked at their cast fallen expressions. "And I'm guessing the first engagement didn't go well."

"They got Xander and they aren't going anywhere till they have Dawn."

Willow got closer to the brew and took another whiff. "Less extract, why are you burning this what's wrong with her."

We had guests while you were gone. Some mousy haired girl, She said she was a friend of Dawn. Next thing we know, she takes off with the Box. We tried to get it back but first there was a vampire gang working the street. Then some guy came out of nowhere. He grabbed the girl and escaped with the box. Anya got hurt. He had some kind of enchantment on a blade. The formula I'm brewing will keep her alive. Willow will need perform a transference and cleansing ritual to save her." He picked up a paper and pushed it into her hands. "That's the one if you want the white magic solution." 

Willow looked at the meticulously copied formulae. It required great power and the magic it countered was quite powerful. She looked at Dillon suspiciously. "You brewed up the counter-agent pretty quickly. You must of cut some corners that could be dangerous." 

"I assure you that Anya is fine except for the fact she is dying. Now if you want to stand here and Martha Stewart me to tears that's your concern." 

"Willis what's the deal"

"I think he knows more then he is saying…in fact, I'm betting anything on it."

Buffy wasted no time she merely grabbed Dillon and threw him against the counter. "What did you do to Anya and fix it "

"I told you what happened to Anya and As for fixing it I gave Glenda here the mojo she needs to do the job."

"Willow"

"Anyone who can cook up this kind of potion would know how to fix her."

"No I can't fix her because I can't fix her. I can't use White magic anymore and the black magic spell that would cure her takes…" He hesitated then he looked deep into Willow's eyes and told her the truth she alone could understand. "It takes more out of me then I'm comfortable giving."

"What did you mean." Buffy asked 

Willow grabbed her shoulder. "I believe him Buffy. I'm gong to start work on this now."

Buffy backed away letting Dillon off the counter she noticed for the first time that he had shed his coat. his shirt was sleeveless allowing her to see the arcane tattoos working their way across his flesh. As she watched, the dark text seemed to move constantly. 

"That is creepy. Do they always move like that?"

"Not always, just sometimes." 

"What did you mean by it takes more out of you." Dawn asked, she was still suspicious. 

Dillon answered tiredly as thought he had done this many times before. "Your spirit or soul allows you to access magic. You remember Yoda's speech in Empire Strikes Back about the difference between the light side and the dark side of the force. Well magic works roughly the same way. By tapping into my dark side I can make use of the magical knowledge the tattoos give me but the trade off is that every time I do it that dark side gets a little bit easier to use. Soon you're igniting candles from fifty feet cause its too much trouble to cross a room. You start abusing the energies and then it goes down hill from there." 

Everyone pretended not to notice the stiffening in Willow's back. Her memories replayed the days, nights when her need for magic had lead her to do some outrageous and irresponsible things, and that was before she decided to destroy the world. 

It was another hour before Willow was ready to make her attempt at the spell. The rest watched as she held her hands over Anya's prone form. Red-black energy crackled around Anya's body before being siphoned off. Once the ritual of transfer was complete, Willow allowed the evil to dissipate into the air. Police agencies across southern California would note increases in crime that night. 

"She's going to pull through." Willow asked warily "What was on that blade." 

"Not sure exactly," Dillon admitted. I heard the guy say something before he struck. Agonistes guide my hand, the name Agonistes is familiar but I can't remember from where."

"Well then, we know he isn't a demon or hell god "

"My encyclopedia of evil is comprehensive but you don't have to be evil to be threat to us." 

"Point taken, anything else." Buffy asked Dillon recounted the whole story in as much detail as he could manage. 

Willow sat at the computer and started entering search terms into the computer stating with Agonistes and then when he recalled it the name Keene had called out during their escape. Clotho…master Clotho he called him."

Buffy startled. "Danm, I think I've heard that name before…. Can't remember where though." 

The group stood around either watching the raising and falling of Anya's chest or the clicking of the computer as Willow went through screen after screen. "At last," she cried out. "I think I got it. Plus, I know why the name seems familiar to you Buffy. Clotho was an artist a long time ago…a very long time ago." 

'Where did you find it Willis." Buffy asked 

"A grad thesis written by an art history student…. Joyce Summers."

"Mom. " Buffy whispered to herself as she recalled her mother's passion for her work at her Gallery. The Group gathered around the screen. " I remember this" Buffy said as she looked over the online text. "I had nightmares about the story for a month. Clotho was an artist in the eighteenth century they say he was quite the mad genius and always obsessed with perfection. He would miss deadlines cause he was trying to perfect some flaw visible only to himself. Finally, the story goes; he went crazy and mutilated his family. They say he was trying to make them perfect. He died in the same insane asylum where they jailed him. "

Willow pointed at the screen. "That's one story, other less official sources claim that he offered his family as a sacrifice to a god of some kind. They also say that rather then dying in the asylum he turned up missing when they were doing bed check one night. They searched for him all over the hospital and eventually the surrounding country. They never found him; he had vanished like a puff of smoke. 

"Why, what for?" Dawn asked 

"Power, why else to these maniacs do it." Dillon snickered 

Willow shook her head "Clotho was into his art apparently he heard of a art form that would yield a level of perfection beyond anything ever known."

"So a two hundred year old artist is buddy, buddy with the guy who stole the box that will allow us to send the cenobites back to hell and close the door that brought them here." Dillon summarized 

"That's not the best part," Willow continued reading from the screen. ."According to another source, Clotho's only visitor during his imprisonment in the asylum was Philip LeMarchand."

"The toy-maker, the guy who built the LeMarchand boxes, if it is the same guy and LeMarchand told him what the boxes were or how they worked. Clotho's disappearance makes sense." 

"Yeah, his disappearance. He was taken to Hell, and the Cenobites must have done that thing they do. But why is he back in Sunnydale, and why would Celeste steal the Box for him?" Buffy asked. "Is there any other info about him." 

Willow shrugged "Not much though there are a few cross-references to someone called The Sculptor. Maybe they are the same person."

"Lets hope the hell not." Dillon snickered ruefully "The Sculptor runs in some pretty disturbing circles."

"What's the deal I thought your mystic score card didn't have the names of our players." 

" The Sculptor is a major leaguer in every sense. He is supposed to be one of the best Flesh Crafters in the world " 

"What do you do with this Flesh Crafting thing." Buffy asked as she gathered weapons. 

"At it's simplest it is like shape changing. You can alter your own appearance or that of another. The vampire clan Tzemisce practices it extensively. There are whispers about where they learned it. " 

Buffy looked at Willow isn't that like a glamour or an illusion?" 

"Illusions create the impression that you look different. If you have the willpower some can still see you for what you are. Flesh crafting literally changes you right to the bone, some say even deeper." 

Dillon nodded at her "picture the thing you fear the most, now imagine your best friend being turned into that thing. It a favorite trick.". 

"Are you up for a little action." She asked resolutely 

Dillon nodded vigorously. "Yeah,"

"Fine Willow stay here, keep digging if this Clotho or Sculptor is really our bad guy we are going to need to know how to take him down." Willow nodded and she and Dawn settled down for more research with Dawn working the net for more information and Willow starting to search through the stacks for all that they held on Flesh crafting magic. 

"Are you really going to just march into his lair and ask him for the box back?" Dillon asked as he yanked on his coat. 

"No I was going to storm his lair, dust his sorry ass, and take the box from the cold dead hand of anyone who tries to keep me from it." Buffy said resolutely 

***

Keene stood outside the studio where his master worked his magic. For sometime, he had been in there with the girl warping her flesh and bones. Her cries and screams had died down eventually after an hour or so now, there was but silence from the studio. The doors opened and Clotho exited. 

"The girl, finished with her you are." 

"Almost, there are a few touch ups, then I think we will see what she thinks of herself."

"When do we depart this place, the Gash, they are here, the Cenobites, why they have no come for us till now I do not know, but surely they won't wait forever."

"Keene, were you not listening to the girls report The Gash are here for the Other girl, the Key they will try and protect her from The Gash it is them we must be wary of." 

"What then do we do." 

"We plan and we use the resources at hand. After all to send The Gash back to their place the protectors of the key will need the Box and we have The Box. They will come to us. It only remains for us to be ready for them when they arrive."

"I will prepare for them they will sorrow for the day they disturbed us."

"Excellent Keene but I think we will give you a little help.": with that Cloth returned to the studio closing the door firmly

He approached his workspace and looked at the thing that had once been a young girl named Celeste. "My dear Dawn's friends may come to retrieve what you took from them. As well, I find myself interested in the rest of your tale. Keene will welcome our guests when they arrive but I think you should go and meet with your friend Dawn awaken her to the beauty I can provide if she but places herself in my hands. Do you think she would enjoy that."

"I will make her enjoy It." an unearthly new voice hissed.

Clotho smiled, as much as he was capable of the act, and fell to his work. What traces of humanity left in the thing in front of him were quickly stripped away, as Clotho had explained Celeste's humanity distracted from her savage inner beauty.

***


End file.
