Summary: Minor season 7 spoilers. Sugar Queef said to me, there just ain't any evil Xander fic out there, and I said, you're right. How 'bout we do some? He never answered me, but I decided to take on the challenge. What lies below is not for the faint of heart. Don't read it if you're under eighteen, or squeemish. This story depicts graphic animal cruelty and food contamination.. so also not a good idea to read when you're eating. It started out as a comedy and then got kind of dark. I don't think there will be many more installments, I haven't written this series in months. I just assume that in future I will post a kind of closure chapter. I began a second one, but I think this was really just meant as a onetime gag, and that's ok. Although the second chapter is also nice in my opinion. But then again, I wrote it so I'm not impartial.
This is a story about a man named 'Xand... No specifcs are needed to tell this tale. He tried to fight The First, but in his self-loathing post wedding dirth, needed a friend. He found that friend in Andrew. They wormed their way into the Scooby Operation. They're fighting on the side of evil, trying to bring the house down for The First. This is his story... Xander's, that is. Xander is the person this story is about. After he switched to the evil side, got it?
Xander drove through the dark streets of Sunnydale, wondering how much time he would have to kill an innocent animal. He wished for a lamb, but there was no way he could drive out to a farm, kill a lamb, and get back without suspicion that he had done more than get the gang a Family Jubilee Doughnut Pack from the Mr. Donut's store. Sighing, he cruised the 'good side' of town, where people had front lawns and enough spare time to build miniature dog houses where they could leave their dogs for the night. He wanted a big, mean dog. He really loved the way an angry animal would come at him and expect to hurt him... Xander would just taser blast the dog, and then he would take his sweet time after using spare chains from the Scooby Arsenal at Buffy's house. He would torture them with leisure, before killing them and taking an eye to dine on. He loved the taste of eyes and he loved killing defenseless animals. It had begun almost as soon as he had come to understand that Andrew was a young and talented man. Soon after their friendship developed and Xander had grown tired of being perpetually lambasted in the gang, they had fallen in love, and pledged allegiance to The First (after all, as was proved with Willow and Tara's relationship, we all know that gay relationships are doomed to fail, and that all gay people who indulge in their sinful urges become crazy and/or evil, and end up dying in a tragic way).
Anyhoo, Xander came up to the house he had been checking out for about a week. In the front sat a red and white striped dog house with a miniature dog-sized swing-door and the word "Buster" painted above it. Xander had been eyeing that rotweiller all week - pardon the pun. He smoothly brought the car to a purring stop, not bothering to turn off the engine. From inside the doghouse, a small growling could be heard, a warning for whatever intruder lay outside to keep their distance. Xander began to return Buster's growl, his nerves r e v v i n g. He'd show those stupid pig fucks who teased and beat him up in high school that he was tough - and their little dogs, too.
A growling war soon surfaced, but still the dog would not come out and attack, until Xander walked up to the side of Buster's house and kicked it. Buster immediately emerged from his apartment, ragingly angry. He turned to face his attacker, and growled briefly before charging at Xander, jaws open. Xander suddenly realized that he had forgotten to take his taser gun out of the car, but decided not to fret. He pulled the stake he kept on hand for dealing with rowdy vamps who were not fellow agents of The First, and buried it squarely into Buster's chest cavity. He had seen Buffy do real-motion staking enough times to know how it was done.
The dog fell over onto it's side, making a terrible sound that sounded somewhere between a growl and a gasp for air, before he started making the whimpering sounds that all animals make, human or other, when they are at death's door. Xander simply laughed and kicked the dog. He was sorry he had forgotten his taser, but he'd known he would have to make a quick kill. Xander then reached into his backpocket where he always kept a spare garbage bag these days, and, after pulling the stake out of Buster so that the wooden edges would not wear the integrity of the plastic, put Buster into a large orange GLAD bag left over from Hallowe'en.
He dumped the bag in the 98 Chevy's backseat, and took the wheel. No one,it appeared, had noticed a thing . He saw no lights on in any houses and was fairly certain he had escaped undetected. He shut the door at his side swiftly, before driving two blocks down the eerily moonlit streets into downtown Sunnydale.
There, neon and orange lights abounded, covering up the bizarre blue tinge the streets had glowed with minutes ago in his killing. Driving past the closed Sunnydale mall, he came to the concrete strip with the all-night Mr. Donut's. He pulled his car up, and parked. Xander leaned into the backseat and pulled the orange garbage bag containing what remained of Buster, and reached into the glove compartment for the syringe he liked to keep there for just such occasions. He needed blood to sustain his ability to allow The First to convey It's will to him. He had not yet managed a human kill, but he hoped it would be soon, and bloody - pardon the pun! Tonight, however, he had something different in mind. He stuck the syringe into the lower side of Buster's body, and drew 20 cc's of the dog's congealed blood. Then Xander put the syringe on the dashboard and opened the car door.
He entered Mr. Donut's and smiled at the cashier. Cassie, who's name was displayed on her Mr. Donut's name tag, was familiar with him and his frequent Scooby Gang dougnut pickups. "The usual?", Cassie asked, glad to see a familiar face when she worked the night shift. "Sure, yeah.. um, no wait, this time - could I get a Family Pack full of Raspberry Tulls instead? I hear they're supposed to be 'a delightful mother's day gift'", Xander said, quoting the commercial. "A twelve pack of Raspberry Tulls comin' up!", Cassie replied. Xander wasn't worried. No one in the gang was allergic to raspberries and, besides being his and Andrew's favourites, would hide the small amount of Buster's blood that Xander would inject into each maroon coloured doughnut. He would simply tell them they had been out of everything but Tulls and Sugar POWdER Custard Dollops. They would believe him. So trusting, so unaware that poor wimpy demon-catchin' Xander would have the balls to lie to them. They'd all get a taste of their own medicine. He loved when they ate the blood or urine infected food, he loved watching their faces, knowing that they were in the bitch chairs this time... ~Eat my Fuck, YOU PIG-DOGS!~, Xander thought to himself as he left the store.
Once the dougnut box was in the car, Xander pulled out the orange garbage bag and tossed it into the dumpster behind Mr. Donut's. It was their problem now. Getting into the car, Xander gave a small, bizarre laugh not unlike the one he had given after being brainwashed into Dracula's slave role.
In five minutes, he was at the Summers' home.The door was open, no one bothered keeping it locked anymore. Xander calmly walked in and said, " Ok, Mr. Donut's has really gone downhill..."