Chapter 2
Destruction
Angelus was alone. He hated it and
longed for the old days, to see his power reflected back at him in the eyes of
his family. But time had wreaked its havoc and his mighty clan had fallen. Now
only his two childer remained. One of them insane and the other ensouled.
He was surprised at how heavily
a lack of a companion weighed upon him and this sense of wrongness niggled at
him constantly, making him restless and uneasy. He searched for Drusilla,
called across the world to her, but she was ever fickle and did not come. So instead
he turned his mind back to Spike; the childe he’d regretfully left behind, and
decided if he had nothing else, he would have Spike. He began investigating the
possibility of banishing his soul.
Angelus spent months tracking
down the greatest sorcerers. He threatened, fought and killed. He cajoled, he
bribed and he cut deals with the audaciousness and determination that became
legendary in the demon world. By the time he finally admitted defeat, he had
re-established his reputation as one of the most ferocious and fearsome demons
of his time. Yet fail he did, all his attempts came to nothing and the answer
remained the same; the soul was tightly bound to his body, departing only when
his body crumbled to dust.
He began to direct his thoughts
towards creating a new family. Surely Spike couldn’t be that unique? He
deliberately chose those humans that bore some resemblance to his childe and
awaited each awakening with eager anticipation. But the ones he made were
inferior substitutes and he could not tolerate any of them for long. They were
too cowardly, too stupid, too dull or too meek; they lacked Spike’s beauty, his
humour, his exuberance, his casual grace. Each time he turned a human hoping
that this was the one. Gradually he came to realise that there was no
substitute for his ensouled childe. After their turning, he no longer shared
his powerful blood and those he'd created with suchhigh hopes and expectations,
deteriorated into expendable minions and lackeys. He sent some brighter ones to
gather news and to set a watch over Spike and the rest of Angel’s friends. Knowledge
was power and eventually he’d find a way to use this power.
Whilst considering the problem
of the soul, his contemplation expanded to embrace human wickedness. It
occurred to him that despite their souls, humans could educate demons in the
subjects of cruelty and destruction. A soul was corruptible, therefore so was
Spike. This line of thought attracted his interest. It brought the old glint
back to his eyes, and wheels in his head whirred and screeched with the white
heat of manufacturing his plan.
He appreciated that he would
have the might of the Council and the strength of the slayers to contend with.
Rashness would lead to failure and never again would he allow himself to become
incarcerated within a soul again. The first thing he needed to do was remove
that potential threat. He focused his attention on the only person who had ever
successfully re-souled him. The witch. Unfortunately, killing
What he needed was something
that would take all of
oooo
Spike was truly abandoned.
Again.
Apathy transmuted to rage
against Angel’s betrayal. Any hope began to fade and the months passed without
further word. Gradually, anger became mixed with self-hatred. He blamed himself
for being such a pathetic wanker. He should never have revealed his cowardly
fear of loneliness or exposed his passion in that kiss. He imagined the pure
contempt Angel must have felt to take flight without a word.
Meanwhile, the visions continued
without regard for the missing Champion. Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Giles and his
It was Gunn who made the break
through. His old crew picked up a homeless guy who had travelled south from
Spike leafed through them,
betraying no sign of emotion. Wesley broke the silence.
“They all look a little like
you.”
He couldn’t deny it and Wesley
continued.
“It’s Angelus, isn’t it? He’s
turning them”
“Well maybe, but how could that
tosser have returned? I think I’d have noticed if we’d…”
Spike frowned, his head full of
scenarios each more unlikely than the last. Angel sneaking upstairs to shag
with one of the slayers? On a scale of 1 to 10, and taking into account his
relationship with a very young Buffy, he gave that likelihood a 3. Angel and
himself shagging and then doing a spell to make him forget was even more
difficult to believe and got a zero. Angel taking advantage of him whilst he
slept and him not noticing? Minus three. Unless he used a date rape drug, which
was ludicrous…. Even Spike realised his thoughts had tumbled into the
ridiculous. There must be something they were missing.
They called
The Council and Angel Investigations
erupted into a flurry of activity. They focused their search on
“I have contacts in
“We’ll just carry on searching.
Damn I wish I still had access to the contracts that Wolfram and Hart hold. I’m
certain he’ll have been setting up deals all over.” Gunn said with some
frustration.
“But we don’t, so we’ll just
have to continue searching in the-old fashioned way.” Wesley replied.
Spike nodded. Despite the bad
news that they had lost Angelus, he felt more at peace than he had during all
those long months since Angel had vanished. All his anger at Angel disappeared.
It was just life pissing on them again. He wavered between joy that Angel
hadn’t deliberately walked away from him and uncertainty that seeped into his
bones. What did the change in the curse mean for Angel and himself? His face
remained neutral; hiding both his hopes and fears. But his eyes betrayed his
doubts.
oooo
Angelus went out to hunt, taking
his frustration out on this city he despised. He’d much preferred
Winter was setting in early and
the humans were swathed in coats and scarves, which was irritating. He hated
having to unwrap all that fussy packaging before he could eat. Finally, a
smooth throat lay bare and exposed in front of him. He allowed canines to
linger on the pulse point in anticipating of the pleasurable warmth and the
rich flavour,carrying the underlying metallic taste of terror. Her face felt
chilled even against his own cold skin. He was about to crunch in and take his
fill when suddenly he let her drop, his eyes distant and thoughtful. Her icy
cold skin had given him an idea and he quickly returned to the lair and called
for the minions.
The idea began to take shape. There
was so much to arrange when travelling distances and his destination was remote
and inhospitable. He wished he had some of his reliable minions of old.
Nevertheless, there were a few in this batch who were capable. He’d long got
tired of seeing images of Spike wherever he looked and his current troupe were
more varied, picked according to their skills rather than appearance. It was
time they were tested. He set them to work organising the details of the trip.
“I’ll be gone for about a week.
Kyle and Elle you’re with me. Smith,” he indicated the bulky minion who towered
over the others, “you’re to see to things whilst I’m away. We’ll leave as soon
as possible. If any of you let me down, I’ll… well, I don’t need to threaten
you do I?” He asked with a look of pleasant enquiry on his face.
It was true, he didn’t. They
were already terrified of him.
Now that he was taking control
he finally felt something like his old self again. The joy in hatching and
juggling fiendish plans and the pleasure in his own cunning, there was nothing
to beat it. This new undertaking was his first step to his childe and he
finally allowed his thoughts to turn to William. He was almost in sight, and
damn, Angelus was looking forward to the thrill of the chase, the struggle for
dominance and finally the pleasure of having Spike at his side once more. There
was not a sliver of doubt as to the eventual outcome.
oooo
“Our problem is, of course,
Angel was familiar with our techniques, so Angelus knows what he’s fighting.
Also, like all supernatural creatures he has an affinity for magic. If he wants
to disappear off our radar he can. I’m convinced that we would do better
searching for him utilising human processes.” Wesley said.
“Human processes? You mean
trawling through papers and police reports?” Spike’s voice held a distinct lack
of enthusiasm.
“Tedious I know, but we have to
presume he’ll have minions now. He and his entourage will make an impact
wherever they settle. Besides the glut of missing people, one of them will
eventually make a mistake.”
“Good point, actually. New
minions are a bunch of brain dead tossers. Although we might not need to find
him, there’s a pretty good chance that he’ll find us first. I doubt if he’s
spent the last few months holidaying or relaxing on some moon-drenched beach.”
Wesley sighed wearily.
“That has occurred to me. I’m
particularly concerned about you, Spike. We’ve been developing tracers - a
mixture of the magical and the technological. They’re only prototypes but early
indications are excellent. I would like you to carry one. We’ll sew one into
the hem of your coat and you won’t even know it’s there”
Spike protested out of habit.
“It’s a bit Big Brother, innit? And I’m talking about 1984, not the reality
show, yeah?”
Wesley shook his head in earnest
disagreement.
“It’s essential for your safety.
We’ve seen both Angel and Angelus in the throes of obsession before and those
pictures indicate that, this time, you’re his fixation. You, more than anyone,
Spike, must understand what he’s capable of. I’ll continue searching for him
but meanwhile, we all have to keep safe. We need to know where you are at all
times. If it makes you feel any better, the rest of the team will also be
tagged.”
“So what’s with the new
development? How are they different from normal tracers?”
“I think it’s probably best that
you don’t know. If Angelus does capture you it’s vital that you don’t betray
its power with a look or even a thought.”
So Spike agreed and gave in
gracefully, accepting the protection, secretly touched by the genuine concern
everyone showed.
He returned to training his
slayers with a renewed vigour and intensity, taking down Angelus would almost
certainly fall to them. Spike became grim and increasingly focused. They were
his slayers and they were going to survive. They, for their part, mirrored his
intensity and set about their new training regime with bleak determination.
They were his slayers and Angel was one of theirs, they would not let either of
them down. During this time, they saw more of Spike in gameface than in his
human aspect, as he allowed all his vampiric speed and strength to come into
play and antagonised their slayer senses into overdrive. After the speed and
adrenaline rush of their all-day training sessions, the real world felt slow
and dull. They realised that they were becoming conditioned to a different rate
of living.
“You know that saying; live
fast, die young?” Chris queried, raising an eyebrow.
“He’s killing us.” Kirsty
agreed.
“What does it matter? You only
fit in a certain amount of living and you can either live it fast or drag it
out to fill the years.” Neesha replied.
“We’re the humming birds of the
human world.” Kirsty laughed.
“We’re becoming real slayers.
He’s turning us into the best.” Chris answered. “The fist of the Council.”
“Spike’s fist.”
They nodded and Neesha raised
her glass of water in salute.
“Live fast, die young.”
The others nodded their
agreement.
Spike watched from the shadows,
guilt gnawing at him. He felt affection for them, they were his, but he was
prepared to use them all to bring back his sire. And they knew it. Accepted it.
His fist. His sword. Forged in battle and sharpened by adversity. He hoped they
would not break in the clash.
When he had finished training
and patrolling, he would spend time with Angel’s friends, people who understood
and shared Spike’s sadness. Sometimes he would stay with Wesley and Fred - of
all people they knew. In the love that bound them, they had some comprehension
of what Spike had lost and although they never spoke of it, Fred’s sweetness
and Wesley’s strength, during this time made him appreciate them as never
before. Together they would spend time away from duties and responsibilities.
They would call Gunn, order Chinese and lounge around sharing wine and
memories. Eventually talk would turn to old battles and new evils. It felt
familiar and comfortable to the humans. Wesley reflected that the only thing
that had changed was the vampire they shared it with.
And whilst they searched and
fought and let duty consume them, they failed to notice the spies watching and
observing the minutiae of their lives. Recording it all and forwarding reports
to their master.
oooo
It had been a tedious and
complicated journey to arrange but here they were. Angelus was blessed with a
photographic memory. As he observed the bleak and featureless landscape of the
Russian Steppes he ran through his memories and grinned with immense
self-satisfaction. His confidence soared. The flat rock in front of him was
distinctive. It was the place he remembered. His plan was going to work. If
this didn’t distract the witch then nothing would.
“Damn, I’m good!”
He turned to his minions.
“I’m opening a portal here.
You’re to guard it. Nothing is to come in or out of it except me. It’ll take a
couple of minutes and then I’ll be back. If I’m more than five minutes, then
Kyle, you jump through and come and find me. You understand?”
The two minions nodded.
“Bring the human forward.”
They pulled forward a man
heavily wrapped in warm clothes. His eyes appeared blank and hopeless.
“Remove his coat.”
The man didn’t try to struggle.
His body showed fang marks on his neck and wrists. He had been their sole
source of sustenance for the last two days. He turned to them expecting the
feeding frenzy of previous days. Tears appeared in his eyes.
“Pozhaluista…please”
“Don’t beg.” He shook his head
at the minions. “I hate it when they beg.”
“Ya ne ponimayu.”
“You don’t need to understand,
old man.”
Without further warning Angelus
surged forward and ripped at the man’s throat, a meagre flow of blood drained
out onto the rock below. He took a heavy disc from his pocket and dipped it
into the gaping hole in the man’s neck, covering it in the last drops of blood
draining from the man. It was the disc Angel had been given to move through to
the demon dimension. He needed to realign it to a different world and so sent
the bloodied disc spinning to the blood anointed stone.
“Chi’lustra.”
He pronounced it carefully. His
glee was evident as the portal flashed to life before him.
“Get this wrong and I’ll teach
you what lies beyond agony.”
The two vampires nodded and held
themselves poised for whatever came next. Angelus leapt through the mystical
gateway and a blast of icy air hit them. They held their ground and waited for
their master.
oooo
Spike put a hand to head, he
could feel the emptiness, the sudden void before his senses were filled with
sights and sounds and tastes of the vision. He groaned in pain as images were
hardwired directly into his brain. He became momentarily lost to the world and
immersed in a new one. A world where the cold froze him to his very core…
Snow falling, wind howling,
ice creaking, falls frozen. A man sitting, frozen eyes, frosted lips, as though
all of winter is drawn towards him, is embodied in him. The falling snow, the
creaking ice, the wind all whisper the same refrain, echoing the words barely
breathed passed the man's own lips, haunting the dreams of unwary travellers.
And those that stumbled free from the frozen land would whisper to those who
would hear, "Please set me free..."
A stranger appeared in the
heart of the land of snow and ice and saw the man and heard his words and laid
cold hand upon frozen brow.
"I will set you free,
old man."
Thus the pledge was spoken.
The traveller wiped his knife and left. The man remained. Warm blood flowed
into pristine snow, red streamlets oozed, cutting furrows through the ice and
then that too froze. The sky threw down hail, the cold bit and icicles fell
like knives in the screaming wind.
The last breath, the last
beat and a frozen body in the frozen wastes.
The stranger strides through icy
winds, bleak blizzards. His footsteps crunch, the earth cracks beneath his
feet. Winter spreads out around him, black and desolate, as cold as death. The
heartbeat gone forever from this land. Flowering trees brittle with hoary
frost. A rabbit caught forever, wide eyes staring, ready to flee, a girl in
summer dress, arm thrown up, countenance reveals a look of eternal surprise.
Hearts stopped and bodies frozen, all trapped within this rimy web. This
beautiful, crystalline world. No life, no breath to animate this frigid land.
No life. Except dark stranger. Looks around and sees it all, lips draw back and
teeth glint white, glacial laughter echoes, branches crack at the sound,
shattering the eerie silence. Haunting laughter, echoing in every corner and the
fragile world is cracking, crystal splintering, a crescendo of icy laughter
crashing into it, smashing it. The world is glass and it is fragmenting,
snapping and tinkling, tumbling, dissolving and gone.
The icy breath of laughter
hangs over the void.
…Spike awoke clutching his
throat and gasping for air he no longer needed, wide-eyed he turned to the
others in horror and breathed the words that fell like a pebble into emptiness.
“Angelus.” Spike whispered.
“You saw him?” Wesley asked.
Spike nodded.
“What happened?”
“He destroyed a world.”
“Destroyed… this world?”
They reflected the silent horror
in his eyes.
“No, but close to this one, too
close.”
His voice was calm but his hands
betrayed him with a tremor, as the shock of what he had witnessed echoed
through him.
“What did he do? Tell us what
happened, Spike.”
Spike nodded and took a breath
to compose himself.
“There was disease in the world.
Not physical you understand?”
“Well, not really, but carry
on.”
“A world eater that moved from
dimension to dimension, devouring a world before moving on to the next. There
was a man, he was powerful and he had sat alone for the last five hundred
years, holding back the cold, protecting his world. He was tired beyond the
meaning of the word but still he persevered. I saw Angelus appear before him
and slit his throat.”
Spike swallowed convulsively.
“What happened next?”
“The world was drained of power.
It froze and then fragmented into a million lifeless shards. It took minutes.”
“It disappeared? A whole world?
Are you sure?” Wesley could hardly comprehend the magnitude of such an event.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I watched it
happen.”
“Right, we have to stop it. Did
you get a timeframe?”
“It’s already happened. Angelus
left the portal open and the dying man reached through it and found me. He
shoved it all into my head just as he was seeing it. He told me it’s close.
Close to where we are. Only a few dimensions to go and then us. He said it was
coming for us.”
Wesley felt the hairs on his
arms stand on end as a chill swept through him. He took a deep, calming breath.
“So let me get this straight.
There is a disease that can travel between worlds and now, because of Angelus,
it is making its way inexhaustibly to our dimension?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“My God! But this is dreadful.
How long do we have?”
“It took weeks before he
realised what was happening on his world and he managed to get to it in the
nick of time. He told me the signs - temperatures drop, the weather changes and
the warmth of the sun diminishes. He called it a parasite.”
“So this sorcerer guy thinks we
have what? About twelve weeks? We have about twelve weeks before it strikes our
world?”
Gunn rubbed his arms and looked
around, as though he could already see and feel the encroaching cold.
“Perhaps a little more…”
“Did the man give you any clue
as to how he held it back?”Wesley's mind had absorbed the threat and was
already seeking the solution.
“He wasn’t exactly coherent. He
was mourning his world. That he couldn’t save it. He kept saying that he was
only a spell-caster, not a spell-maker.”
“What does that mean?” Gunn
asked.
“All spells are created by
someone or something and people with an affinity for magic can use these spells
themselves. They are spell-casters. Spell-makers are considerably rarer, they
create spells. There haven’t been any new spells for generations.”
“That ain’t right.” Spike
replied with a puzzled frown.
“What do you mean?”
“Red, I mean,
“That had been done before.”
“But she changed it to include
every potential. Doesn’t that make it a new spell? She was always pulling apart
spells and joining them together, twisting them into what she needed.”
“That is so incredibly
dangerous, was she never taught…”
“No, she never was. That’s the
point though, she was never taught about danger. She’s used to moving pieces of
computer code around and she assumed that spells were the same.”
“But they aren’t.” Wesley
protested.
“What’s the difference?” Fred
asked curiously.
“Spells involve asking favours
from very powerful entities. Her cavalier approach could have been incredibly
dangerous.”
“Well they must like audacity and
an enquiring mind because they love her.” Spike said. “She couldn’t get the
Latin right once and in the end swore, said that she knew the goddess
understood what she wanted and to just do it. She’s a little spitfire
sometimes. Dunno if I’d care to cross her.”
Wesley was stunned.
“I see what you mean about
audacity. And yet she lived through it.”
“Uh huh. Not only that. They did
her bidding and the spell worked.” Spike finished.
“We need to get
“You get that this is probably
why Angelus destroyed the world? Red is the only one to ever successfully force
the soul back into him, so the evil bastard is using the death of that world to
draw her away.”
“Yes, I see. A diversion. But
frankly, I don’t know what else we can do. The end of the world is currently
more important than getting Angel back. You know he’d say the same thing if he
were here. Still, we’re not going to stop searching for him.”
oooo
Angelus returned in triumph. He
had never seen the fall of a world before. It had been exhilarating! The feel
of everything falling apart and disintegrating, the power he’d felt as he’d
walked through the destruction. Jeez what a buzz. Of course, they would
eventually discover this new threat and that would be the witch safely out of
the game for a while.
He was intrigued to find an
email from Spike waiting for him. All it said was; Angelus.
Angelus nodded in satisfaction
and then typed up his reply.
You took your time. This is
the crack Council / AI team? I’m embarrassed for you. And hey, guess sweet,
tasty Fred fixed your computer following your little temper tantrum. Ah
William. So destructive, I hate to see you tamed, you should be untrammelled, a
force of nature.
That would send them panicked
and wild-eyed, suspecting that even within their inner sanctum he had spies.
They forgot he had a brain and knew Spike well, his reactions were easy to
predict, especially in the light of the silence that followed his provocative
emails.
I don’t like being played
with, mate.
Angelus gave a laugh.
Shame. I enjoy playing with
you so much… mate.
He enjoyed the hunt almost as
much as catching the prey. He knew Spike wouldn’t be able to resist answering
the challenging message. He was right, as usual.
Enjoy your game whilst you
can, you can’t hide forever and then before you can say ’ensouled’… but I guess
you know the rest.
He quickly typed a new message,
he loved sparring with Spike, even if only verbally.
Your bluster is boring me,
Childe.
He pressed send.
Not trying to keep you
amused. You destroyed a world and angered some powerful people. You can’t win,
Angelus. I want my sire back and I will. Whatever it takes.
It irritated him when Spike
denied their relationship. And how the hell did they know about the dead world
already? He reflected that he might have finally found some worthy opponents.
Like all things, worlds are
born and then they die. So I cut short it’s existence by a few months /years/
aeons. What’s the difference? I mean really? Be honest. As for your sire, you
were sired by a demon, by blood and fang, not by a human or by a soul. Guess
that makes me your Sire, so you want me? Come and get me. And finally, I always
win.
He waited for the click of a new
message and was not disappointed.
You always win? Yeah, right!
The gypsies beat you,
Enough of this. Time to introduce
the boy to some realities.
Your eternity? What makes you
think you have one? Anyway, you make Angel too happy, so either way he can’t
stay with you. I’m the only Sire you’ll ever have.
Send.
I refuse to believe that.
Somehow we’ll find a way.
This was beginning to irritate
him.
Yawn.
Send
I will get Angel back.
Foolish boy.
Zzzzzzzz
Send. Log out.
That had whetted his appetite.
No one understood his games quite like Spike and he was more determined than
ever to move on to the next part of his plan. He studied the reports from his
spies. At first it seemed a hopeless task trying to find any sort of pattern in
their movements. Their days and nights seemed to be chaotic and unpredictable.
He then noted that Spike would often spend time with Wesley and Fred and,
providing nothing else intervened, these visits had a certain regularity. This
was exactly what he was looking for. He prepared for a trip back to
The bond he’d had with Spike had
dissipated and his childe would have no warning, it had been too long since
their last blood sharing. He took with him the two minions who weren’t complete
idiots.
Angelus composed a note; the
letters were scratchy and rushed, but overall he felt it was a satisfactory
imitation of Spike’s hand. He despatched it immediately.
Wesley, expecting the arrival of
Spike, instead received the message:
“Sorry, Mate. Can’t make it
this time. Cheers Spike.”
Although presenting himself as
an oddity in auto-addicted
“You may as well show yourself.
I can frigging smell you.”
“Spike? It’s me.”
Spike buried all signs of apprehension,
never show the bastard weakness.
“What do you want, Angelus?”
“Would I be here if I were still
him? It’s me, childe. I’ve been re-souled.”
“Angel?” Spike felt his heart
lurch in hope.
“I’m sorry, I returned to you as
quickly as possible. Jeez, it’s so good to see you again!”
Spike moved closer, scenting the
air and then his face screwed up with a bitter laugh.
“You really thought you could
fool me?”
Angelus grinned. “No, I didn’t.”
Spike had been so intent on his
sire he’d gotten careless. Too late he turned, responding to a noise and
realising that his sire had merely been distracting him whilst the jaws of trap
snapped shut.
As Spike brought a hand to the
stinging dart, Angelus patted him on the shoulder and chuckled good-naturedly.
“Do you remember that
tranquillizer gun you helped Fred to develop?”
Before his horror could register
on his face Spike had collapsed to the ground.