Disclaimer
This is a fanfic, I don't own these characters, and it is being written for enjoyment.
Immortal
Prelude
'Would you like me to lie to you now?' Her face looked down upon him, with a mixture of sadness and determination, and odd combination for the God-King of the Universe he thought. But it was an echo of someone else, someone he loved.
'Yes.' The response escaped from his mouth without him even thinking about it. His eyes closed slowly, painfully. He was a watcher, he was trained to separate illusion from reality. 'Thank you. Yes.' He had become weak, this wasn't what he was supposed to say. He felt a soft, delicate hand stroking his cheek, a familiar scent wafted through him. Could it be? He slowly opened his eyes, looking up into the angelic visage of his dead lover. 'Hello there.'
'Oh, Wesley. My Wesley.' Her lips slowly parted in a comforting smile. The tears in her eyes welled, and traced a line down the sides of her beautiful face, around the contours of her lips, which would twitch at the effort of smiling and crying at the same time.
'Fred.' He whispered, in agony and in bliss. 'I've missed you.'
She leaned down gently. Her right hand still caressing his cheek, her left cradling his head. She kisses his lips twice, gently, stifles a sniffle and kisses his forehead. 'It's gonna be OK. It won't hurt much longer,' her bottom lips trembles with her grief, ' and then you'll be where I am.' Emotion welled inside her. Her chest heaves from the strain, and she starts to cry softly. 'We'll be together.' She promises him.
'I—I love you.' With his last breath he spoke the words which were closest to his heart. It was now, he knew, it was his time. He was going to die in the arms of the woman he loved, reality be damned.
'I love you.' She declares, through her tears. 'My love.' She begins to gasp for air. 'Oh, my love.' She adds at last, looking down upon him. He is still, eyes open but no light coming from them. In truth she knows that he has died, that she is cradling him, lifeless in her arms. She lets him go, gently placing his head on the floor, laying to rest the man she loved.
The stranger watched the sad thing before him, watched as the Ancient One smashed Vail's head like a ripe watermelon, and how she walked away from the room. Her head bowed in grief, her shoulders hunched over and trembling. With one final look at the prone body of Wesley, she was gone.
Carefully he stepped out of the shadows that hid him, it was now or never he decided. The man, Wesley, had been gone but moments, and if he waited any longer it might not work. He stepped over the dead body of the warlock Vail, not even pausing to look at him. Slowly he kneeled next to the body of the dead watcher. He raised his left hand, palm out, above his head and fingers outstretched. He willed the magic all around him to bend to his will. The air started to glow, like pure white mist, in the palm of his hand. Through his magic he willed the soul of the departed watcher to return.
The stranger’s fingers begun to curl, and he felt Wesley's soul materialising in his hand. With one swift motion the stranger brought his hand down and onto the Wesley’s chest, yelling out a single word 'Return!'. The stranger felt Wesley's body shiver and heave, and finally the watcher sat up and gasped for air.
Wesley felt death settle in his body when the last words he had just spoken left his lips. He imagined he heard her reply, words of love, her love for him, but he wasn't sure. His body had no more weight to it, he began to float, rise and sink from it at the same time. It was all too confusing, where he was now, there was no sense of direction or time, his soul was free, he knew that. In moments that felt like seconds or years of heartbeats, he saw a stranger approach him.
The stranger had his right hand down on his right hand side, but his left was bent across his body, and his left hand was curled as if he was holding something precious. Wesley felt a little tug towards the stranger, he took a step towards him and found himself instantly by the stranger’s side. Motionless the stranger looked through Wesley and then let his gaze fall on his prone left hand. Wesley followed the stranger's gaze, and looked at what the stranger was cradling.
It was him! Instantly Wesley looked up into the stranger's eyes which were like fire, from the stranger’s palm. He felt tiny and powerless, he tried to struggle, but couldn't. The stranger spared him a moment of mercy, the fire in his eyes dimmed as if to show compassion. The he started to clench his left hand into a fist, Wesley felt strength and pressure like he had never known, and then he heard the stranger command in a strong voice, one simple work; 'Return!'
Wesley heard the word ring in his ears, as his soul fell back into his body. Bone, muscle and sinew trapped him again, or rather like never before. He felt a shudder run up and down, through him. He heaved once and then sat bolt upright gasping for air, his body screaming for it. He saw the stranger move his left hand of his chest, and stand up. The stranger took two steps backward and gazed down upon him, with regret.
"How - What?" Wesley asked, looking at the stranger. "W-why, why did you? ... How did you? ... Who ar-?"
"I did what I thought was best." The stranger replied, cutting off Wesley. "I brought you back, changed, like me." The stranger folded his hands before him. "You are still needed Wesley Wyndam-Price." He repeated Wesley's name with precision in order to focus Wesley's attention on him. "You're work here is not yet done. Your friends, out there." The stranger waived in the general direction of the rally point out side the Hyperion. "They need you, they are about to enter the greatest fight of their lives, and they need you to save them. Don't you want to save them?"
Wesley slowly got to his feet, fighting off the brief attack of vertigo as he did so. He began to grimace in pain from the wound that Vail had inflicted on him, but stopped as realized that the wound had healed its self. He looked down to see his torn and blood soaked shirt, but underneath his skin was smooth, without even a scratch. "How is this possible?" He asked.
The stranger paused to consider for a moment, and then inclined his head to the left, as if listening to a voice that only he could hear. Finally he looked at Wesley and replied. "You have questions. I have answers, but I can't give them to you now. I must be somewhere." The stranger pulled a medallion from his pocket, and threw it to Wesley who caught it, and stared at it. It was made of polished stone, obsidian, with an in carving of a snake eating its own tail, with the letters alpha and omega superimposed on each other in the centre with a leather strap running through the top of it, so that it could be warn. "This talisman will work only for you. All you have to do is clasp it tightly in your hand and repeat my name three times and I will come to you." The stranger explained.
"Wear it around your neck." He continued. "Keep it safe, for it is also my mark and others might try and gain it to hurt both you and me. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more right now, but I need to go now, to attend to other business." He seemed genuinely sad at abandoning Wesley right now. "Put aside your questions, Mr. Wyndam-Price. For this moment, stop being a watcher and become a doer. Your friends, they need you!" With that last, the stranger stepped forward and immaterialized in front of Wesley, air rushed around the room to fill the void of where the Stranger had stood only moments before, and Wesley was left dumbstruck.
"But I don't even know your name!" Wesley exclaimed into the empty room.
"Polyzysis." The room rang our in reply.
Immortal (Angel Fanfic)
Moderator: LadyTevar
Immortal (Angel Fanfic)
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
-
Crazedwraith
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11924
- Joined: 2003-04-10 03:45pm
- Location: Cheshire, England
-
consequences
- Homicidal Maniac
- Posts: 6964
- Joined: 2002-07-07 03:06pm
No, he's my own character used to bring Wesley back.Crazedwraith wrote:Sweet. Good writing should I know this polyphonic guy?
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
To phrase this as clearly as possible such that there is no chance of missunderstanding .... Oh Hell Yes!consequences wrote:Is this where Wesley uses all of the grenades he forgot during the finale?
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Okay, you know what? First off .... :
Oh-my-god-there-are-actual-*people*-reading-this!
*goofy grin*
Oh-my-god-there-are-actual-*people*-reading-this!
*goofy grin*
3/4 done with the second chapter, just finishing it off actually. But it's a piece of shit, so I'm going to re-write a lot of it. But that process doesn't usually take too long, so ...Asdeed wrote:Excellent!
It's definitely off to a nice start, hope there's more coming soonish?
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
He is, but not at the same time. Wesley's just stepped up to the grown up's table so ... Basically the OC is gonna do a few things for Wesley that are certainly pretty powerful at first, but latter more worthy opponents appear so that the OC isn't orders of magnitude greater than them.Xephon wrote:Looks promising though I hope your OC isn't some sort of deus machina.
Hard to explain, hope I didn't scare you off on the story there ... *cringe, at the thought of having just done so*
Yeah, it's kind of hard to write though; "Wesley pointed his gun, squeezed the trigger and killed a demon ...." rinse and repeat. That's what's really holding up the second chapter at the moment. We'll see how it turns out I guess.Xephon wrote:Time for some sweet dual pistol action.
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Sorry guys (for those of you still reading), but this chapter really bothered me and I changed it a dozen times. I just don't want to write in the third person for this fic, I just wanna stay inside Wesley's head for the whole time, and I don't think that there will be anymore chapters where I stray from him like this.
Anyway, here it is;
Chapter 1 - Hell at the Hyperion
Polyzysis appeared in a large empty hallway, with a large domed ceiling running its length painted in baby blue, with frescos of angels and devils battling in heaven. The hall had large bay windows that went from the floor all the way up the wall to the base of the roof. Outside the sky was pitch black, and the dark ink of night obscured the lovely country side that he knew was there. Polyzysis began to walk down the hallway to the large wooden doors that were decorated in the baroque style with busts and lifelike carvings of humans battling monstrous demons.
When Polyzysis reached the doors, he paused a moment to collect his thoughts, and listen to the murmur of his peers that filtered through the thick wood. Then he placed his hand upon the brass handles, and the doors swung open of their own accord.
The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, except for one point on the lower levels where golden circle was formed out of mystical light. Ordinarily the room would be well lit, and it would look like a giant amphitheatre, with a podium standing in the position where the golden light now shone. Given the fact that the room was entirely in darkness, save for the golden light, this wasn’t a convening of the Assembly, but a trial. Knowing his place in this meeting, he walked to the circle and stepped into the light without the slightest show of fear and hesitation.
Plolyzysis knew that the golden light was a mystical projection that was made by the will of the Assembly, he himself had added to it to make it powerful. He understood that he could not leave the circle if he was guilty of the crime. He stood there alone, blinded by the golden light and waited patiently. He knew his role in this drama was the accused, and that it would be prudent to allow his detractors speak first. He needn’t wait long.
“Do you know why you are here?” A booming voice – Cicidius’ he identified. “Why you have been called to be judged in front of the Assembly?” Cicidius added.
“I am here because I heard my summons.” Polyzysis answered. “I hadn’t enquired as to why judgement was called upon me by the Assembly, I assume that it would be made clear once I appeared here. Or does the accused no longer have the right to know the accusations against him anymore?”
“Be silent!” Cicidius snapped. “Your petulance and disrespect will only make this tribunal’s verdict harsher.”
“You mention a verdict.” Polyzysis replied. “That assumes that the trial has already been put to a vote.” He still hadn’t implied as to what he was being tried with, mainly because to ask questions was to reveal ignorance, and to reveal ignorance was to admit weakness. But given that Cicidius was one of the members of the tribunal – a five person tribunal authorised to express the will of the Assembly, he had a good idea as to what this was about.
“There is no need for a trial.” Cicidius replied. “Or are you going to deny that it wasn’t you who granted to the mortal Wesley Wyndam-Price our gift?”
“It was I, yes.” Polyzysis responded. “I do not deny it.”
“As was surmised.” Cicidius replied, in his minds eye Polyzysis could see the great lump lick his lips and smile his wicked smile. “Polyzysis, you are aware of our punishment for passing on the gift without approval from the Assembly first?”
“I am, eternity in torment.” Polyzysis replied. “Has the Assembly voted?”
“It has, it finds you guilty.” Cicidius announced with relish in his voice. “You will submit to the will-”
“The full Assembly has voted?” Polyzysis interrupted.
“Yes the full Assembly!” Cicidius roared. Evidently he didn’t like being interrupted, Polyzysis wondered how he would like to be proven wrong. “The full Assembly has voted on this matter-”
“Did the verdict pass with the required ten vote majority?” Polyzysis asked again.
“Yes it passed!” Cicidius huffed. “Otherwise you would not be facing this tribunal’s punishment, now would you?”
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t. May the accused know the exact margin that the vote was won by?”
“It is immaterial-” Cicidius began, but was cut off from another member of the tribunal.
“By ten votes.” The soft voice of Dessady spoke up from the darkness beyond the golden light.
“This is immaterial!” Cicidius’ voice boomed throughout the hall. “The Assembly has voted, the verdict was passed with the required ten votes, otherwise he,’ Cicidius spat, ‘ wouldn’t be here!’
‘I think you’ll find that you are wrong about the margin of votes.” Polyzysis spoke up from the golden circle. “I think that you overlooked one of us, and did not count his vote, making this verdict null.”
“No one was overlooked.” Cicidius replied. “All that made it voted, those that didn’t were counted as abstaining, which counts on the side of those favouring inaction. All our members were accounted for, except you of course, but the last time I checked the accused didn’t get a vote!”
Polyzysis felt a smile form under his nose, and tried his best not to point out the obvious to Cicidius. By the rustling in the seats that he heard above him, Polyzysis knew that others were catching on to his hints. “Even Wesley Wyndam-Price?” He asked.
“What?” Demanded Cicidius.
“I asked if our newest member’s vote had been added to the calculations?” Polyzysis asked.
“He does not get a vote in this Assembly,’ Cicidius began, ‘this Assembly is ruling because of his existence in our order, how can he possibly get a vote?”
“I’m sorry to correct you, but this Assembly is ruling on my actions in giving our gift to Wesley Wyndam-Price.” Polyzysis began. “As such, only I am the accused, and not he. As such, his vote must be added to the tally.” Polyzysis paused to hear the murmur of approval sweep through the members of the Assembly that were present. “If this vote was only passed by the ten vote majority, then counting Wyndam-Price’s vote as an abstain, would mean that this vote only passed with a nine vote majority.”
Ployzysis paused for a second, and fixed his gaze in the general direction of where he registered Ciciduis’ voice as emanating from. “All of which means, that I have been passed of any wrong doing, and that I can step out of this circle without fear of retribution.” Saying so, Polyzysis took one purposeful step out side the golden light, and straightened up next to it. “I thank the Assembly for its wisdom.” He bowed respectfully, intoning the ritual phrase of the accused who had just been acquitted, and exited the room, leaving behind him outrage from his detractors and admiration from those that supported him.
Duck, hack, kick. It was a rhythm that he had settled on now. Duck, hack, kick. Simple and easy, cutting down one opponent after the other. Duck, hack, kick. One after the other. He lost count on how many had fallen to his sword’s fury. But somewhere, buried deep inside the back of his mind, the part that no longer thought of victory or defeat. Nor the part that kept the rhythm progressing, duck, hack, kick, but somewhere deep in the idle part of his mind, he could swear that he could hear his own voice say; ‘I kinda wanna slay the dragon’. It felt like another life time ago.
His arms felt like lead, weighing him down, his clothes weren’t any lighter, being drenched with rain and demon blood. He knew to his left, Spike was swinging away as well, relishing the rumble they had found themselves in, and slightly behind him to the right, Illyria was obliterating any of the demons foolish enough to get within an arms span of her. And Gunn, well Gunn had passed out due to lack of blood a while ago, surely he would be dead by now, he wouldn’t have been able to survive under the best circumstances, and Wolfram & Hart raining down Hell on Earth was definitely a phenomenon that fell under the ‘other’ category.
Angel knew that the only reason they had managed to stay alive as long as they had was because they were fighting in an alley, and the demonic army which out manned them by so much couldn’t bring their advantage in strength of numbers to bear on them. But he was tiring. Vampire or not, he had his limits, and he was approaching one of them fast. Sooner or later he would slip, misstep, lose his rhythm, and then, he would die.
Before he would let that happen though he was going to take down as many of these bastards as he could. After all; what’s the point of making a last stand if you just gave up? Duck, hack, kick … duck, hack, kick. In the distance, he could hear shots of thunder echo up and down the alley way. Great, he thought, just what I need, more rain. Still it might wash some of this demon blood off me.
Polyzysis had taken a few steps down the hallway, when a voice called out behind him. “You played that remarkably well.” He spun around and saw Dessady close the double wooden doors behind her. “Cicidius is still in there arguing with the other members of the Assembly, but the fact that you were able to step out of the circle of light without harm means that you have been absolved of any wrong doing for most of the others.” She told him.
“I bet.” Polyzysis responded. “I haven’t witnessed such and example of hot air since I was vacationing on the Bikini Atoll in the late 50’s.” He smiled at her politely.
“I am curious as to how you were so confident that things would work out the way they did.” She responded.
Polyzysis just shrugged. “Making Wyndam-Price one of us was the right decision.” He began. “I knew that it needed to be done. And as to Cicidius and his carte, well they never really learned that you should count the votes before you bring it to the Assembly.”
Dessady had reached his side now, and put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him into walking with her down the corridor. “Exactly how long did you masquerade as Bismarck’s personal assistant again?”
“Since he was appointed Ambassador to Russia.” Polyzysis responded. “But in all humility, I wasn’t aware that he would end up doing all that he did prior to instituting myself in his retinue.”
“Didn’t stop you from taking notes though did it?” Dessady asked with a cheeky smile.
“No, I suppose it didn’t.” Polyzysis responded. “Although you’d think that after Cicidius’ many years, he too would have learned a thing or two about how to win votes and manipulate the political machine.”
Dessady remained silent for a moment, and walked with him to the end of the hall, sparing a glance in his direction in between steps, finally she turned to him and asked what was on her mind. “You really think that making Wyndam-Price one of us was the right thing to do?”
“Yes, hell yes.” Polyzysis replied. “Consider what he and the others have managed to do!” He exclaimed. “They brought a branch of Wolfram & Hart down to its knees, and razed it to the ground, not once but twice now!” Polyzysis grabbed Dessady by the shoulders and shook her gently. “The right thing to do?” He repeated. “It should have been done three years ago when he returned from Pylea! Why the Assembly has dragged its feet on this issue, I’ll never know.”
“Where are you going now?” She asked.
“I’m going to check a few things out, but then I’ll go to Wyndam-Price.” He responded. “He’ll need some questions answered soon.” He spun around and took a few steps away and then paused, with his back to Dessady he asked her; “Tell me, which way did you vote?”
“Cicidius isn’t someone I’d want as an enemy.” She responded.
“Neither am I.” He replied, still not facing her.
“Neither are you.” She agreed. With that Polyzysis disappeared.
More shots of thunder sounded down the alley, and it took a while to register to Angel that the demons closest to them were all falling down in agony, a look of horror intermixed with surprise and agony on their faces. Two more shots of thunder fired again, this time accompanied by a whistling sound flying by his ears, and then the shots became a tattoo of heavy fire, repeating one after the other. More demons were falling down and more.
Every now and then the shots would cease for a while, only to start up again with even more ferocity and were heard more rapidly. Gun fire, Angel identified, but who? For a brief moment he thought that maybe a tactical team from Wolfram & Hart were in the alley, but then rejected the idea. If there was any tactical team left in Los Angeles they would probably be aiming at him, not helping him.
Maybe the local police? After all the appearance of so many demons in the heart of Los Angeles was sure to gain their attention, but that idea was also rejected as the shots all seemed to be coming from one position, and they were more like one person shooting than a few.
Whatever it was, Angel didn’t really care at this point. All that mattered was that whoever was shooting was helping them, and suddenly the odds just turned dramatically. A new sense of hope had welled inside him, filled him up with a power that was amazingly restorative. Arch Duke Sebassis was right after all, hope was a force to be reckoned with.
Wesley had arrived at the Hyperion hotel only moments ago. He hastily parked his car, and retrieved a duffle bag from the back seat. He quickly made his way through the old abandoned hotel, and up onto the roof. What he saw took his breath away for a split second. Down in the alley behind the hotel, Angel, Spike and Illyria were in a fight for their lives. Arrayed against them were forces of the lower spawns of Hell.
Dropping the duffel bag, he unzipped it, and pulled out one of his rifles, time to even the odds. He had barely started shooting, when he realised that he had already run out of ammunition. That’s OK, he thought, I’ve got more. The truth was Wesley had a suspicion that this would by Wolfram & Hart’s response should Angel’s plan succeed and he had stocked up.
Pity that I hadn’t brought one of these in my meeting with Vail, he thought. But then again there was no way Vail’s security would have let me through with a gun, he added. The knife was there just for show, if I had come totally empty handed, Vail wouldn’t have believed my act for a second. Having reloaded his rifle, he once again began to shoot down into the alley at the monsters attacking his friends, starting off with the lesser, smaller demons that were closest to his friends. The bigger ones, the real terrors, will meet their turn in moments.
It took a while for Spike to register that a lot more demons were falling to their deaths around him recently than there were moments before. Ordinarily he would make some kind of smart comment about it, but he was just too plain buggered. And besides, this was giving him a chance to regather his strength. He stepped back a moment, and paused to watch as vast swaths of the army arrayed against them suddenly fall down and shudder, and then he registered the gun shots. Sweetest thing I’ve heard in me life, he thought. And then jumped into the fight again with gusto.
Wesley had gone through half of his duffle bag when the smaller demons had all finally been dealt with. Not that there wasn’t a half dozen giants that still needed to be dealt with, and that blasted dragon. Twice it had swooped down on the roof top, trying to bite him, he only managed to beat it back with a few bursts from his rifle. He knew that it only wounded it with minor irritation, it was time to go with something that packed a little more of a punch.
He dropped the rifle on the roof, after he emptied his last clip in the alley below, bent into his duffle bag and pulled out his pump action shotgun. He gave it one good pump to make sure that it was primed and loaded. He saw the dragon swooping down on his position high from his right.
“Alright my dear.” He said. “Lets dance.”
The dragon let out a roar as it began to close in on him – thankfully it wasn’t breathing fire and Wesley was too scared to contemplate what would happen to him if it could – at the last moment it spread it wings to slow its self down and extended its taloned feet to shred Wesley. He was ready for it, he allowed his right knee to collapse under his weight, and tucked himself into a nice side roll.
The sound of sharp talons scratching on the roof top told Wesley how close he had been to having his head ripped off. He smoothly extended his right leg just at the end of his role, used his left as a pivot and turned to face the dragon. He fired off to quick shots at the dragons left wing, shredding the thin membrane of what looked like skin.
The dragon screeched another roar of pain and irritation, and tried to gain hight. But with one wing badly damaged it just managed to unbalance itself, and send itself skidding off to the right. Wesley quickly got up and took two steps back, being mindful not to get side swiped by the beast’s mace like tail.
The dragon folded its wings and stood up on its hind legs and turned to face Wesley. It opened its mouth revealing rows of sharp pointed teeth, longing to get a bite at Wesley.
Another pump of the shot gun, and Wesley aimed; ‘Welcome to the 21st century.” He told the beast and squeezed the trigger. The dragon took the full force of the shot gun at point blank range to the face. The dragon flung its neck from side to side, and then collapsed. Wesley stayed where he was, and just fired two more shots. He was fairly certain that the twitching was just motor reflex and that the beast was dead, but there was no point in risking injury for nothing more than curiosity to get closer to it.
He ran back to his duffle bag, and looked over the edge. Only a dozen or so demons left in the alley. He pulled out three grenades, pulled their pins and let them drop being mindful to drop them as far away from his friends as possible. Angel, Spike and Illyria – he knew – would only be inconvenienced by the shrapnel, but hopefully at least some of the demons bellow would stopped by them, especially those closest to where he dropped them.
He heard and felt the explosion below that signalled the detonation of the grenades. Carefully he snuck another peak. Still the better half of ten demons were standing and didn’t appear damaged at all. He looked back in his duffle bag, and felt his heart sink; he was out of ammunition. He chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered his options; he still had his sword in the bag, but those demons were pretty big and the others down there were no doubt tired, and he did having something else in his car that might do the trick but it would mean leaving them for a few minutes while he ran back and got it.
After a second’s hesitation he started beating a path back towards his car, hoping that he didn’t tally too long. True it was a risk, but he wouldn’t be much good to his friends if he died straight away – again, he thought. He hadn’t really had time to ponder over what had happened to him at Vail’s mansion – and now isn’t the time to think about it either! He reprimanded himself. Setting his jaw, he began to run a little faster.
Angel didn’t know what was going on, but before there were hundreds of them and now only a handful left. He had felt a couple of explosions going off a little father down the alley, but had been too tired to care about it. Even with the bulk of the demons having been cut down, he felt a sense of dread envelope him. True there were less of them now, but the ones left were huge – and probably packed a nice punch too.
“Looks like we’re done with the quantity and now we’re moving on to the quality.” Spike echoed his thoughts standing to his left.
“What does it matter?” Illyria bit out on Angel’s right. “I wish to do more violence; it bothers me little on whom I do it to.”
“Has anyone seen the dragon?” Angel asked taking a brief look up into the Los Angeles night sky. Just at that moment a gush of flame shot out from the far end of the alley, stopping a few feet short of the two Vampires and the Ancient One. Spike and Angel reflexively put up their arms to shield themselves and back-pedalled from the flames.
“Oh gee, thanks ya big poof!” Spike yelled. “Think you can think of any other mystical creatures that can turn two Vampires into ash faster than you can say ‘Manchester United’ that we should be fighting right now?”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen Spike.” Angel retorted. “Illyria you might wanna take a few steps back to keep out of the flames.” He added noticing that Illyria hadn’t budged an inch, but had only cocked her head slightly to the left as she stared down the alley in the direction of the fire.
“Leaver her,’ Spike advised. ‘The God-King’s of the Universe are probably fire proof anyway.”
“The fire is devouring our enemies.” Illyria stated in a matter of a fact tone without turning to face them.
“Probably getting bored of watching, wants to crisp us its self and get it over with.” Spike said.
Angel lowered his arm shielding his face and peered cautiously over it. He saw the demons that were facing them writhing on the alley floor in agony, and they were enveloped in flames. Every now and then flames would shoot out left to right, to envelope demons that had nearly managed to put out the fires that clung to their flesh. From the bursts, Angel could tell that the origin of the fire was drawing closer to them.
“Get ready.” He told Spike and Illyria.
The glare of the flames hurt his eyes, and he had trouble looking directly down the alley. But slowly he could make out a shape approaching them. Again, pausing every now and then to shoot more flames at the demons in its path towards Angel, Spike and Illyria. Slowly the shape began to resolve itself, and Angel could see that this wasn’t the dragon he had seen earlier – in fact it didn’t look like a demon at all.
It looked like a man. A man with a flame thrower strapped onto his back. Slowly, than man came closer and stopped in front of the last demon. He sent a jet of flame all over it, and his face was illuminated.
“Wesley.” Angel and Spike spoke in unison.
Illyria merely cocked her head to the right now and stared at Wesley.
Anyway, here it is;
Chapter 1 - Hell at the Hyperion
Polyzysis appeared in a large empty hallway, with a large domed ceiling running its length painted in baby blue, with frescos of angels and devils battling in heaven. The hall had large bay windows that went from the floor all the way up the wall to the base of the roof. Outside the sky was pitch black, and the dark ink of night obscured the lovely country side that he knew was there. Polyzysis began to walk down the hallway to the large wooden doors that were decorated in the baroque style with busts and lifelike carvings of humans battling monstrous demons.
When Polyzysis reached the doors, he paused a moment to collect his thoughts, and listen to the murmur of his peers that filtered through the thick wood. Then he placed his hand upon the brass handles, and the doors swung open of their own accord.
The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, except for one point on the lower levels where golden circle was formed out of mystical light. Ordinarily the room would be well lit, and it would look like a giant amphitheatre, with a podium standing in the position where the golden light now shone. Given the fact that the room was entirely in darkness, save for the golden light, this wasn’t a convening of the Assembly, but a trial. Knowing his place in this meeting, he walked to the circle and stepped into the light without the slightest show of fear and hesitation.
Plolyzysis knew that the golden light was a mystical projection that was made by the will of the Assembly, he himself had added to it to make it powerful. He understood that he could not leave the circle if he was guilty of the crime. He stood there alone, blinded by the golden light and waited patiently. He knew his role in this drama was the accused, and that it would be prudent to allow his detractors speak first. He needn’t wait long.
“Do you know why you are here?” A booming voice – Cicidius’ he identified. “Why you have been called to be judged in front of the Assembly?” Cicidius added.
“I am here because I heard my summons.” Polyzysis answered. “I hadn’t enquired as to why judgement was called upon me by the Assembly, I assume that it would be made clear once I appeared here. Or does the accused no longer have the right to know the accusations against him anymore?”
“Be silent!” Cicidius snapped. “Your petulance and disrespect will only make this tribunal’s verdict harsher.”
“You mention a verdict.” Polyzysis replied. “That assumes that the trial has already been put to a vote.” He still hadn’t implied as to what he was being tried with, mainly because to ask questions was to reveal ignorance, and to reveal ignorance was to admit weakness. But given that Cicidius was one of the members of the tribunal – a five person tribunal authorised to express the will of the Assembly, he had a good idea as to what this was about.
“There is no need for a trial.” Cicidius replied. “Or are you going to deny that it wasn’t you who granted to the mortal Wesley Wyndam-Price our gift?”
“It was I, yes.” Polyzysis responded. “I do not deny it.”
“As was surmised.” Cicidius replied, in his minds eye Polyzysis could see the great lump lick his lips and smile his wicked smile. “Polyzysis, you are aware of our punishment for passing on the gift without approval from the Assembly first?”
“I am, eternity in torment.” Polyzysis replied. “Has the Assembly voted?”
“It has, it finds you guilty.” Cicidius announced with relish in his voice. “You will submit to the will-”
“The full Assembly has voted?” Polyzysis interrupted.
“Yes the full Assembly!” Cicidius roared. Evidently he didn’t like being interrupted, Polyzysis wondered how he would like to be proven wrong. “The full Assembly has voted on this matter-”
“Did the verdict pass with the required ten vote majority?” Polyzysis asked again.
“Yes it passed!” Cicidius huffed. “Otherwise you would not be facing this tribunal’s punishment, now would you?”
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t. May the accused know the exact margin that the vote was won by?”
“It is immaterial-” Cicidius began, but was cut off from another member of the tribunal.
“By ten votes.” The soft voice of Dessady spoke up from the darkness beyond the golden light.
“This is immaterial!” Cicidius’ voice boomed throughout the hall. “The Assembly has voted, the verdict was passed with the required ten votes, otherwise he,’ Cicidius spat, ‘ wouldn’t be here!’
‘I think you’ll find that you are wrong about the margin of votes.” Polyzysis spoke up from the golden circle. “I think that you overlooked one of us, and did not count his vote, making this verdict null.”
“No one was overlooked.” Cicidius replied. “All that made it voted, those that didn’t were counted as abstaining, which counts on the side of those favouring inaction. All our members were accounted for, except you of course, but the last time I checked the accused didn’t get a vote!”
Polyzysis felt a smile form under his nose, and tried his best not to point out the obvious to Cicidius. By the rustling in the seats that he heard above him, Polyzysis knew that others were catching on to his hints. “Even Wesley Wyndam-Price?” He asked.
“What?” Demanded Cicidius.
“I asked if our newest member’s vote had been added to the calculations?” Polyzysis asked.
“He does not get a vote in this Assembly,’ Cicidius began, ‘this Assembly is ruling because of his existence in our order, how can he possibly get a vote?”
“I’m sorry to correct you, but this Assembly is ruling on my actions in giving our gift to Wesley Wyndam-Price.” Polyzysis began. “As such, only I am the accused, and not he. As such, his vote must be added to the tally.” Polyzysis paused to hear the murmur of approval sweep through the members of the Assembly that were present. “If this vote was only passed by the ten vote majority, then counting Wyndam-Price’s vote as an abstain, would mean that this vote only passed with a nine vote majority.”
Ployzysis paused for a second, and fixed his gaze in the general direction of where he registered Ciciduis’ voice as emanating from. “All of which means, that I have been passed of any wrong doing, and that I can step out of this circle without fear of retribution.” Saying so, Polyzysis took one purposeful step out side the golden light, and straightened up next to it. “I thank the Assembly for its wisdom.” He bowed respectfully, intoning the ritual phrase of the accused who had just been acquitted, and exited the room, leaving behind him outrage from his detractors and admiration from those that supported him.
Duck, hack, kick. It was a rhythm that he had settled on now. Duck, hack, kick. Simple and easy, cutting down one opponent after the other. Duck, hack, kick. One after the other. He lost count on how many had fallen to his sword’s fury. But somewhere, buried deep inside the back of his mind, the part that no longer thought of victory or defeat. Nor the part that kept the rhythm progressing, duck, hack, kick, but somewhere deep in the idle part of his mind, he could swear that he could hear his own voice say; ‘I kinda wanna slay the dragon’. It felt like another life time ago.
His arms felt like lead, weighing him down, his clothes weren’t any lighter, being drenched with rain and demon blood. He knew to his left, Spike was swinging away as well, relishing the rumble they had found themselves in, and slightly behind him to the right, Illyria was obliterating any of the demons foolish enough to get within an arms span of her. And Gunn, well Gunn had passed out due to lack of blood a while ago, surely he would be dead by now, he wouldn’t have been able to survive under the best circumstances, and Wolfram & Hart raining down Hell on Earth was definitely a phenomenon that fell under the ‘other’ category.
Angel knew that the only reason they had managed to stay alive as long as they had was because they were fighting in an alley, and the demonic army which out manned them by so much couldn’t bring their advantage in strength of numbers to bear on them. But he was tiring. Vampire or not, he had his limits, and he was approaching one of them fast. Sooner or later he would slip, misstep, lose his rhythm, and then, he would die.
Before he would let that happen though he was going to take down as many of these bastards as he could. After all; what’s the point of making a last stand if you just gave up? Duck, hack, kick … duck, hack, kick. In the distance, he could hear shots of thunder echo up and down the alley way. Great, he thought, just what I need, more rain. Still it might wash some of this demon blood off me.
Polyzysis had taken a few steps down the hallway, when a voice called out behind him. “You played that remarkably well.” He spun around and saw Dessady close the double wooden doors behind her. “Cicidius is still in there arguing with the other members of the Assembly, but the fact that you were able to step out of the circle of light without harm means that you have been absolved of any wrong doing for most of the others.” She told him.
“I bet.” Polyzysis responded. “I haven’t witnessed such and example of hot air since I was vacationing on the Bikini Atoll in the late 50’s.” He smiled at her politely.
“I am curious as to how you were so confident that things would work out the way they did.” She responded.
Polyzysis just shrugged. “Making Wyndam-Price one of us was the right decision.” He began. “I knew that it needed to be done. And as to Cicidius and his carte, well they never really learned that you should count the votes before you bring it to the Assembly.”
Dessady had reached his side now, and put a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him into walking with her down the corridor. “Exactly how long did you masquerade as Bismarck’s personal assistant again?”
“Since he was appointed Ambassador to Russia.” Polyzysis responded. “But in all humility, I wasn’t aware that he would end up doing all that he did prior to instituting myself in his retinue.”
“Didn’t stop you from taking notes though did it?” Dessady asked with a cheeky smile.
“No, I suppose it didn’t.” Polyzysis responded. “Although you’d think that after Cicidius’ many years, he too would have learned a thing or two about how to win votes and manipulate the political machine.”
Dessady remained silent for a moment, and walked with him to the end of the hall, sparing a glance in his direction in between steps, finally she turned to him and asked what was on her mind. “You really think that making Wyndam-Price one of us was the right thing to do?”
“Yes, hell yes.” Polyzysis replied. “Consider what he and the others have managed to do!” He exclaimed. “They brought a branch of Wolfram & Hart down to its knees, and razed it to the ground, not once but twice now!” Polyzysis grabbed Dessady by the shoulders and shook her gently. “The right thing to do?” He repeated. “It should have been done three years ago when he returned from Pylea! Why the Assembly has dragged its feet on this issue, I’ll never know.”
“Where are you going now?” She asked.
“I’m going to check a few things out, but then I’ll go to Wyndam-Price.” He responded. “He’ll need some questions answered soon.” He spun around and took a few steps away and then paused, with his back to Dessady he asked her; “Tell me, which way did you vote?”
“Cicidius isn’t someone I’d want as an enemy.” She responded.
“Neither am I.” He replied, still not facing her.
“Neither are you.” She agreed. With that Polyzysis disappeared.
More shots of thunder sounded down the alley, and it took a while to register to Angel that the demons closest to them were all falling down in agony, a look of horror intermixed with surprise and agony on their faces. Two more shots of thunder fired again, this time accompanied by a whistling sound flying by his ears, and then the shots became a tattoo of heavy fire, repeating one after the other. More demons were falling down and more.
Every now and then the shots would cease for a while, only to start up again with even more ferocity and were heard more rapidly. Gun fire, Angel identified, but who? For a brief moment he thought that maybe a tactical team from Wolfram & Hart were in the alley, but then rejected the idea. If there was any tactical team left in Los Angeles they would probably be aiming at him, not helping him.
Maybe the local police? After all the appearance of so many demons in the heart of Los Angeles was sure to gain their attention, but that idea was also rejected as the shots all seemed to be coming from one position, and they were more like one person shooting than a few.
Whatever it was, Angel didn’t really care at this point. All that mattered was that whoever was shooting was helping them, and suddenly the odds just turned dramatically. A new sense of hope had welled inside him, filled him up with a power that was amazingly restorative. Arch Duke Sebassis was right after all, hope was a force to be reckoned with.
Wesley had arrived at the Hyperion hotel only moments ago. He hastily parked his car, and retrieved a duffle bag from the back seat. He quickly made his way through the old abandoned hotel, and up onto the roof. What he saw took his breath away for a split second. Down in the alley behind the hotel, Angel, Spike and Illyria were in a fight for their lives. Arrayed against them were forces of the lower spawns of Hell.
Dropping the duffel bag, he unzipped it, and pulled out one of his rifles, time to even the odds. He had barely started shooting, when he realised that he had already run out of ammunition. That’s OK, he thought, I’ve got more. The truth was Wesley had a suspicion that this would by Wolfram & Hart’s response should Angel’s plan succeed and he had stocked up.
Pity that I hadn’t brought one of these in my meeting with Vail, he thought. But then again there was no way Vail’s security would have let me through with a gun, he added. The knife was there just for show, if I had come totally empty handed, Vail wouldn’t have believed my act for a second. Having reloaded his rifle, he once again began to shoot down into the alley at the monsters attacking his friends, starting off with the lesser, smaller demons that were closest to his friends. The bigger ones, the real terrors, will meet their turn in moments.
It took a while for Spike to register that a lot more demons were falling to their deaths around him recently than there were moments before. Ordinarily he would make some kind of smart comment about it, but he was just too plain buggered. And besides, this was giving him a chance to regather his strength. He stepped back a moment, and paused to watch as vast swaths of the army arrayed against them suddenly fall down and shudder, and then he registered the gun shots. Sweetest thing I’ve heard in me life, he thought. And then jumped into the fight again with gusto.
Wesley had gone through half of his duffle bag when the smaller demons had all finally been dealt with. Not that there wasn’t a half dozen giants that still needed to be dealt with, and that blasted dragon. Twice it had swooped down on the roof top, trying to bite him, he only managed to beat it back with a few bursts from his rifle. He knew that it only wounded it with minor irritation, it was time to go with something that packed a little more of a punch.
He dropped the rifle on the roof, after he emptied his last clip in the alley below, bent into his duffle bag and pulled out his pump action shotgun. He gave it one good pump to make sure that it was primed and loaded. He saw the dragon swooping down on his position high from his right.
“Alright my dear.” He said. “Lets dance.”
The dragon let out a roar as it began to close in on him – thankfully it wasn’t breathing fire and Wesley was too scared to contemplate what would happen to him if it could – at the last moment it spread it wings to slow its self down and extended its taloned feet to shred Wesley. He was ready for it, he allowed his right knee to collapse under his weight, and tucked himself into a nice side roll.
The sound of sharp talons scratching on the roof top told Wesley how close he had been to having his head ripped off. He smoothly extended his right leg just at the end of his role, used his left as a pivot and turned to face the dragon. He fired off to quick shots at the dragons left wing, shredding the thin membrane of what looked like skin.
The dragon screeched another roar of pain and irritation, and tried to gain hight. But with one wing badly damaged it just managed to unbalance itself, and send itself skidding off to the right. Wesley quickly got up and took two steps back, being mindful not to get side swiped by the beast’s mace like tail.
The dragon folded its wings and stood up on its hind legs and turned to face Wesley. It opened its mouth revealing rows of sharp pointed teeth, longing to get a bite at Wesley.
Another pump of the shot gun, and Wesley aimed; ‘Welcome to the 21st century.” He told the beast and squeezed the trigger. The dragon took the full force of the shot gun at point blank range to the face. The dragon flung its neck from side to side, and then collapsed. Wesley stayed where he was, and just fired two more shots. He was fairly certain that the twitching was just motor reflex and that the beast was dead, but there was no point in risking injury for nothing more than curiosity to get closer to it.
He ran back to his duffle bag, and looked over the edge. Only a dozen or so demons left in the alley. He pulled out three grenades, pulled their pins and let them drop being mindful to drop them as far away from his friends as possible. Angel, Spike and Illyria – he knew – would only be inconvenienced by the shrapnel, but hopefully at least some of the demons bellow would stopped by them, especially those closest to where he dropped them.
He heard and felt the explosion below that signalled the detonation of the grenades. Carefully he snuck another peak. Still the better half of ten demons were standing and didn’t appear damaged at all. He looked back in his duffle bag, and felt his heart sink; he was out of ammunition. He chewed the inside of his cheek while he considered his options; he still had his sword in the bag, but those demons were pretty big and the others down there were no doubt tired, and he did having something else in his car that might do the trick but it would mean leaving them for a few minutes while he ran back and got it.
After a second’s hesitation he started beating a path back towards his car, hoping that he didn’t tally too long. True it was a risk, but he wouldn’t be much good to his friends if he died straight away – again, he thought. He hadn’t really had time to ponder over what had happened to him at Vail’s mansion – and now isn’t the time to think about it either! He reprimanded himself. Setting his jaw, he began to run a little faster.
Angel didn’t know what was going on, but before there were hundreds of them and now only a handful left. He had felt a couple of explosions going off a little father down the alley, but had been too tired to care about it. Even with the bulk of the demons having been cut down, he felt a sense of dread envelope him. True there were less of them now, but the ones left were huge – and probably packed a nice punch too.
“Looks like we’re done with the quantity and now we’re moving on to the quality.” Spike echoed his thoughts standing to his left.
“What does it matter?” Illyria bit out on Angel’s right. “I wish to do more violence; it bothers me little on whom I do it to.”
“Has anyone seen the dragon?” Angel asked taking a brief look up into the Los Angeles night sky. Just at that moment a gush of flame shot out from the far end of the alley, stopping a few feet short of the two Vampires and the Ancient One. Spike and Angel reflexively put up their arms to shield themselves and back-pedalled from the flames.
“Oh gee, thanks ya big poof!” Spike yelled. “Think you can think of any other mystical creatures that can turn two Vampires into ash faster than you can say ‘Manchester United’ that we should be fighting right now?”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen Spike.” Angel retorted. “Illyria you might wanna take a few steps back to keep out of the flames.” He added noticing that Illyria hadn’t budged an inch, but had only cocked her head slightly to the left as she stared down the alley in the direction of the fire.
“Leaver her,’ Spike advised. ‘The God-King’s of the Universe are probably fire proof anyway.”
“The fire is devouring our enemies.” Illyria stated in a matter of a fact tone without turning to face them.
“Probably getting bored of watching, wants to crisp us its self and get it over with.” Spike said.
Angel lowered his arm shielding his face and peered cautiously over it. He saw the demons that were facing them writhing on the alley floor in agony, and they were enveloped in flames. Every now and then flames would shoot out left to right, to envelope demons that had nearly managed to put out the fires that clung to their flesh. From the bursts, Angel could tell that the origin of the fire was drawing closer to them.
“Get ready.” He told Spike and Illyria.
The glare of the flames hurt his eyes, and he had trouble looking directly down the alley. But slowly he could make out a shape approaching them. Again, pausing every now and then to shoot more flames at the demons in its path towards Angel, Spike and Illyria. Slowly the shape began to resolve itself, and Angel could see that this wasn’t the dragon he had seen earlier – in fact it didn’t look like a demon at all.
It looked like a man. A man with a flame thrower strapped onto his back. Slowly, than man came closer and stopped in front of the last demon. He sent a jet of flame all over it, and his face was illuminated.
“Wesley.” Angel and Spike spoke in unison.
Illyria merely cocked her head to the right now and stared at Wesley.
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
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Wesley has a flamethrower AND he got to slay the dragon?
Stuart: The only problem is, I'm losing track of which universe I'm in.
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker
Chapter 2 – Aftermath
Time seemed to flow and flutter like an intermittent gas valve for the next couple of hours for Wesley. There were moments where it seemed to be moving agonisingly slow like tar, and at others moments seemed to be a blur. Like he was just a passenger, an outside observer of the present, and he wasn’t really paying attention.
All he knew for certain was that shortly after the battle he, Angel, Spike and Illyria had decided the best cause of action was to pick up Gunn’s corpse and find someplace to leave it for burial. They had settled on Anne, who ran the charity for kids in Los Angeles. They knew that she was a close friend of Gunn’s, and that she could make the arrangements to have him buried. Another death from the circle, Wesley thought. One more person close to him, dead.
Soon after that they all decided that it would be best for them to drive out of Los Angeles and find some place quite and remote to discuss just what happened. The had driven up the coast towards a small town of San Luis Obispo, Wesley had just stared numbly out the back passenger’s window watching the magnificent Pacific Ocean blur past his window, and deep shade of unfathomable black, with the rising moon’s light reflect upon it.
Wesley couldn’t be sure when they had pulled off the road, and parked at a resting stop overlooking the ocean, but it was here that he found himself surrounded by his last remaining friends. Two Vampire’s with souls and an Ancient One. A demon who had destroyed the woman he loved – consumed her soul in fact – so that she could be reborn. The demon who had given him the parting gift of a glamour, of hope. The only one he realised who was avoiding his gaze.
“Lorne?” Wesley broke the silence first.
“No idea,’ replied Angel. “But he said that he wouldn’t be joining us afterwards anyway. I have to believe that he succeeded.” Angel stood facing him with his hands on his hips, coat jacked open and flaying out on the sides. His eyes seemed to rove over Wesley’s face, searching for something.
“Heard you were dead.” Spike spoke up from Wesley’s right hand side. He had his hands crossed against his chest, and was leaning on the side of the car. He would steal quick glances at Wesley, waiting, watching, measuring him. “Heard that Vail finished you.”
“I saw you die.” Illyria stated, with her eyes still downcast.
“I - ,’ began Wesley. “I did die, yes. I think so anyway. I was brought back.” He finished lamely, he hadn’t had the courage to visit the scene at Vail’s mansion since he had been left alone by Polyzysis, the memory of Fred comforting him, still upset him.
“You smell the same.” Angel stated. “You don’t smell … changed.” Wesley didn’t know how to respond so he just gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. He knew that by ‘changed’ Angel meant ‘possessed’ or ‘demon’.
“There was a man, he healed me and then he told me there was still work to be done, and then he left.” Wesley said, almost haltingly.
“You feel familiar.” Illyria again provided. She still wasn’t meeting his gaze, but she was at least looking at him. Through him. Wesley noted. The same kind of look she had when she would study the plants in the offices of Wolfram and Hart.
“Like Angel said; he hasn’t changed.” Spike responded. “There’s no demon in him.”
“He is different … and yet familiar.” Illyria insisted, and then spun around and stared out into the ocean, as if the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore were whispering secrets to her, and it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Can you tell us more about the man you saw?” Angel asked. “What he did?”
“No.” Wesley replied. “I know nothing about him. I’ve never run across him in any of my studies. However, as to answering your questions about him, I will let him do that himself.” Wesley reached into his shirt and felt for the amulet he had been given just before Polyzysis had disappeared. Remembering the instructions, he gripped the amulet tightly in his fist and repeated Polyzysis’ name out loud three times.
Then feeling, slightly foolish, he released his grip on the amulet, opened his eyes and looked around, not knowing what to expect. He found Angel still looking at him with that searching gaze, Illyria with her back towards him but now her head was tilted slightly back listening over her shoulder with one ear and Spike, still leaning crossed armed on the car looking out of the corner of his eyes at Wesley.
Suddenly there was a sound – like clothes flapping and snapping in the wind when they’re hung out to dry – and Polyzysis materialised in their circle out of thin air, looking like Wesley remembered him. He was slightly shorter than Wesley, with light brown hair, cut closely. He wore blue jeans, with a grey shirt and dark brown suede leather jacket. He had a thin clean shaven but strong face and his eyes seemed to flash with an emerald green fire that receded slowly as he glanced around those accompanying Wesley.
“I see that you succeeded in helping your friends.” He spoke, taking Angel and Spike’s presence in immediately, but stealing two glances at Illyria who had turned around at his arrival and was glaring at him out from hooded eyes. “I am glad.”
“Well, we’re glad, that you’re glad.” Spike spoke up. “Got a name?”
“Polyzysis,’ he replied. “And you must be Spike.”
“If you know his name, then you know something about us.” Angel stated.
“Yes, I do.” Polyzysis replied, smiling pleasantly at Angel.
“Well since you helped Wesley,’ Angel replied. “Why don’t you help us out a little more and tell us more about yourself?”
Ployzysis continued to smile pleasantly at Angel but didn’t respond. Wesley had the distinct impression that Polyzysis could have remained quiet till the end of time, and nothing the others did would change that.
“You said,’ Wesley began forcing his voice to stay even, to fight off the memory of Fred’s soft hand caressing his forehead. “That you would provide answers to my questions.”
Polyzysis turned his head around and inclined his head at Wesley as a measure of agreement. “Ask away.” He replied.
“You told me that you brought me back, ‘changed’ – you said – like yourself.” Wesley began. “But I am not measurably different. What did you mean by changed?” Wesley finished. Spike at this point had uncrossed his arms and turned to stand rather than lean against the car, he fumbled in his pockets for a wet – almost soggy cigarette – and lit it. Angel’s head had snapped when Wesley had said the word changed and his gaze was boring into Polyzysis’ eyes. Illyria had remained motionless.
“Like I said,’ Polyzysis replied. “You are like me now, I did it because you are needed.”
“What do you mean, ‘like you’?” Wesley asked. “What are you?”
“I am a member of the Assembly.” Polyzysis answered.
“Never heard of it.” Angel said.
“We don’t advertise.” Polyzysis replied. Once again he smiled pleasantly at Angel, but once again stole glances of Illyria.
“You are familiar.” She spoke up at last. Polyzysis merely inclined his head slightly and continued to smile pleasantly.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Wesley spoke up. “What did you mean by ‘changed’ and ‘like you’?”
Polyzysis seemed to consider for a moment before replying. “I unlocked power in you Wesley Wyndam-Price. Power that for the most part, in every person goes unused and unrealised. However, those of the Assembly have this barrier removed, they are granted power.” He finished.
“Like what?” Wesley asked.
“That you will have to decide for yourself.” Polyzysis answered. “But I would be honoured to show you some of it if you let me.” Wesley paused to consider for a moment, before answering.
“Yes,’ Wesley replied. “Show me.” The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt as if he was being battered by gale force winds that would rip his flesh off his bones. The world became a senseless blur as all five of his senses were assaulted by a torrent of information. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it had stopped.
Wesley now stood in a candle lit room with no entry ways or exits. The walls were made of solid stone, like they were carved out of a mountain. Gold and silver runes lined them with inscriptions that seemed somehow familiar to him, but the more he focused on them, the more his eyes seemed to slide off of them. At one end of the room stood a large wooden desk that was tidy and had a single large book resting on it. At the other end, directly facing the desk was a single and comfortable bed, with platinum bed posts. The platinum bed posts were encrusted with crystals and gems of varying shapes and colours.
And standing directly opposite Wesley was Polyzysis. He stood there facing Wesley just as he had been only moments before, only now there was no Angel, Spike or Illyria and Polyzysis’ green eyes were once again flashing an emerald fire.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“In my sanctum,’ began Polyzysis. “Away from the others, now I can answer your questions far better than I could before. The Assembly guards its secrets jealously Wesley Wyndam-Price, there are not many things that can hold power over one of its members, but this is one of them. You cannot repeat certain information to outsiders.”
“But I am not a member of your Assembly.” Wesley pointed out.
A faint smile appeared across Polyzysis’ face. “Yes, you are. You were made one when I brought you back.” His face took on a strange mix of humour and apology at that remark as far as Wesley could tell. “But I believe that you wanted me to demonstrate the power available to you, over time of course.” He added. “Have anything particular in mind?”
Images sprung up unbidden in Wesley’s mind. He saw Gunn’s lifeless form, laying crumpled in the alley, handing him over to Anne. Fred’s divine face staring down at him lovingly – then vertigo violently ripped the image – and now he was staring down at Fred’s face, her breathing was shallow, laboured and panic had settled upon her eyes. Wesley shut his eyes tightly, trying to banish this image from his mind.
Waves of hatred started to swell in him. This image had always haunted him, would always haunt him. But why was he thinking of it now? All those responsible for her death had been dealt with, hadn’t they? Hadn’t he himself punished those who hadn’t given their fullest attention at preventing her transformation from coming about? No. There were three, three who had abandoned him. Three who had turned their backs.
Icy fire burned in his chest as their faces swam before him, one by one. The first one, the obnoxious self – righteous little girl who had already had betrayed them earlier that year. The second, the one who had met Fred, who had claimed to have liked Fred, who had been conveniently unavailable to help her, in her greatest hour of need. And the last one, the patriarch of the little ensample, the one who had probably convinced the other two what to do.
If Polyzysis was as powerful as Wesley suspected he needed to find out. Neither of them would be an easy target, especially the second one, but Wesley had already died once tonight. Dying again wasn’t going to trouble him at all.
“Yes,’ Wesley spoke up. “Now that you mention it, I do.”
Time seemed to flow and flutter like an intermittent gas valve for the next couple of hours for Wesley. There were moments where it seemed to be moving agonisingly slow like tar, and at others moments seemed to be a blur. Like he was just a passenger, an outside observer of the present, and he wasn’t really paying attention.
All he knew for certain was that shortly after the battle he, Angel, Spike and Illyria had decided the best cause of action was to pick up Gunn’s corpse and find someplace to leave it for burial. They had settled on Anne, who ran the charity for kids in Los Angeles. They knew that she was a close friend of Gunn’s, and that she could make the arrangements to have him buried. Another death from the circle, Wesley thought. One more person close to him, dead.
Soon after that they all decided that it would be best for them to drive out of Los Angeles and find some place quite and remote to discuss just what happened. The had driven up the coast towards a small town of San Luis Obispo, Wesley had just stared numbly out the back passenger’s window watching the magnificent Pacific Ocean blur past his window, and deep shade of unfathomable black, with the rising moon’s light reflect upon it.
Wesley couldn’t be sure when they had pulled off the road, and parked at a resting stop overlooking the ocean, but it was here that he found himself surrounded by his last remaining friends. Two Vampire’s with souls and an Ancient One. A demon who had destroyed the woman he loved – consumed her soul in fact – so that she could be reborn. The demon who had given him the parting gift of a glamour, of hope. The only one he realised who was avoiding his gaze.
“Lorne?” Wesley broke the silence first.
“No idea,’ replied Angel. “But he said that he wouldn’t be joining us afterwards anyway. I have to believe that he succeeded.” Angel stood facing him with his hands on his hips, coat jacked open and flaying out on the sides. His eyes seemed to rove over Wesley’s face, searching for something.
“Heard you were dead.” Spike spoke up from Wesley’s right hand side. He had his hands crossed against his chest, and was leaning on the side of the car. He would steal quick glances at Wesley, waiting, watching, measuring him. “Heard that Vail finished you.”
“I saw you die.” Illyria stated, with her eyes still downcast.
“I - ,’ began Wesley. “I did die, yes. I think so anyway. I was brought back.” He finished lamely, he hadn’t had the courage to visit the scene at Vail’s mansion since he had been left alone by Polyzysis, the memory of Fred comforting him, still upset him.
“You smell the same.” Angel stated. “You don’t smell … changed.” Wesley didn’t know how to respond so he just gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. He knew that by ‘changed’ Angel meant ‘possessed’ or ‘demon’.
“There was a man, he healed me and then he told me there was still work to be done, and then he left.” Wesley said, almost haltingly.
“You feel familiar.” Illyria again provided. She still wasn’t meeting his gaze, but she was at least looking at him. Through him. Wesley noted. The same kind of look she had when she would study the plants in the offices of Wolfram and Hart.
“Like Angel said; he hasn’t changed.” Spike responded. “There’s no demon in him.”
“He is different … and yet familiar.” Illyria insisted, and then spun around and stared out into the ocean, as if the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore were whispering secrets to her, and it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Can you tell us more about the man you saw?” Angel asked. “What he did?”
“No.” Wesley replied. “I know nothing about him. I’ve never run across him in any of my studies. However, as to answering your questions about him, I will let him do that himself.” Wesley reached into his shirt and felt for the amulet he had been given just before Polyzysis had disappeared. Remembering the instructions, he gripped the amulet tightly in his fist and repeated Polyzysis’ name out loud three times.
Then feeling, slightly foolish, he released his grip on the amulet, opened his eyes and looked around, not knowing what to expect. He found Angel still looking at him with that searching gaze, Illyria with her back towards him but now her head was tilted slightly back listening over her shoulder with one ear and Spike, still leaning crossed armed on the car looking out of the corner of his eyes at Wesley.
Suddenly there was a sound – like clothes flapping and snapping in the wind when they’re hung out to dry – and Polyzysis materialised in their circle out of thin air, looking like Wesley remembered him. He was slightly shorter than Wesley, with light brown hair, cut closely. He wore blue jeans, with a grey shirt and dark brown suede leather jacket. He had a thin clean shaven but strong face and his eyes seemed to flash with an emerald green fire that receded slowly as he glanced around those accompanying Wesley.
“I see that you succeeded in helping your friends.” He spoke, taking Angel and Spike’s presence in immediately, but stealing two glances at Illyria who had turned around at his arrival and was glaring at him out from hooded eyes. “I am glad.”
“Well, we’re glad, that you’re glad.” Spike spoke up. “Got a name?”
“Polyzysis,’ he replied. “And you must be Spike.”
“If you know his name, then you know something about us.” Angel stated.
“Yes, I do.” Polyzysis replied, smiling pleasantly at Angel.
“Well since you helped Wesley,’ Angel replied. “Why don’t you help us out a little more and tell us more about yourself?”
Ployzysis continued to smile pleasantly at Angel but didn’t respond. Wesley had the distinct impression that Polyzysis could have remained quiet till the end of time, and nothing the others did would change that.
“You said,’ Wesley began forcing his voice to stay even, to fight off the memory of Fred’s soft hand caressing his forehead. “That you would provide answers to my questions.”
Polyzysis turned his head around and inclined his head at Wesley as a measure of agreement. “Ask away.” He replied.
“You told me that you brought me back, ‘changed’ – you said – like yourself.” Wesley began. “But I am not measurably different. What did you mean by changed?” Wesley finished. Spike at this point had uncrossed his arms and turned to stand rather than lean against the car, he fumbled in his pockets for a wet – almost soggy cigarette – and lit it. Angel’s head had snapped when Wesley had said the word changed and his gaze was boring into Polyzysis’ eyes. Illyria had remained motionless.
“Like I said,’ Polyzysis replied. “You are like me now, I did it because you are needed.”
“What do you mean, ‘like you’?” Wesley asked. “What are you?”
“I am a member of the Assembly.” Polyzysis answered.
“Never heard of it.” Angel said.
“We don’t advertise.” Polyzysis replied. Once again he smiled pleasantly at Angel, but once again stole glances of Illyria.
“You are familiar.” She spoke up at last. Polyzysis merely inclined his head slightly and continued to smile pleasantly.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Wesley spoke up. “What did you mean by ‘changed’ and ‘like you’?”
Polyzysis seemed to consider for a moment before replying. “I unlocked power in you Wesley Wyndam-Price. Power that for the most part, in every person goes unused and unrealised. However, those of the Assembly have this barrier removed, they are granted power.” He finished.
“Like what?” Wesley asked.
“That you will have to decide for yourself.” Polyzysis answered. “But I would be honoured to show you some of it if you let me.” Wesley paused to consider for a moment, before answering.
“Yes,’ Wesley replied. “Show me.” The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt as if he was being battered by gale force winds that would rip his flesh off his bones. The world became a senseless blur as all five of his senses were assaulted by a torrent of information. And then, as suddenly as it had started, it had stopped.
Wesley now stood in a candle lit room with no entry ways or exits. The walls were made of solid stone, like they were carved out of a mountain. Gold and silver runes lined them with inscriptions that seemed somehow familiar to him, but the more he focused on them, the more his eyes seemed to slide off of them. At one end of the room stood a large wooden desk that was tidy and had a single large book resting on it. At the other end, directly facing the desk was a single and comfortable bed, with platinum bed posts. The platinum bed posts were encrusted with crystals and gems of varying shapes and colours.
And standing directly opposite Wesley was Polyzysis. He stood there facing Wesley just as he had been only moments before, only now there was no Angel, Spike or Illyria and Polyzysis’ green eyes were once again flashing an emerald fire.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“In my sanctum,’ began Polyzysis. “Away from the others, now I can answer your questions far better than I could before. The Assembly guards its secrets jealously Wesley Wyndam-Price, there are not many things that can hold power over one of its members, but this is one of them. You cannot repeat certain information to outsiders.”
“But I am not a member of your Assembly.” Wesley pointed out.
A faint smile appeared across Polyzysis’ face. “Yes, you are. You were made one when I brought you back.” His face took on a strange mix of humour and apology at that remark as far as Wesley could tell. “But I believe that you wanted me to demonstrate the power available to you, over time of course.” He added. “Have anything particular in mind?”
Images sprung up unbidden in Wesley’s mind. He saw Gunn’s lifeless form, laying crumpled in the alley, handing him over to Anne. Fred’s divine face staring down at him lovingly – then vertigo violently ripped the image – and now he was staring down at Fred’s face, her breathing was shallow, laboured and panic had settled upon her eyes. Wesley shut his eyes tightly, trying to banish this image from his mind.
Waves of hatred started to swell in him. This image had always haunted him, would always haunt him. But why was he thinking of it now? All those responsible for her death had been dealt with, hadn’t they? Hadn’t he himself punished those who hadn’t given their fullest attention at preventing her transformation from coming about? No. There were three, three who had abandoned him. Three who had turned their backs.
Icy fire burned in his chest as their faces swam before him, one by one. The first one, the obnoxious self – righteous little girl who had already had betrayed them earlier that year. The second, the one who had met Fred, who had claimed to have liked Fred, who had been conveniently unavailable to help her, in her greatest hour of need. And the last one, the patriarch of the little ensample, the one who had probably convinced the other two what to do.
If Polyzysis was as powerful as Wesley suspected he needed to find out. Neither of them would be an easy target, especially the second one, but Wesley had already died once tonight. Dying again wasn’t going to trouble him at all.
“Yes,’ Wesley spoke up. “Now that you mention it, I do.”
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
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consequences
- Homicidal Maniac
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Crazedwraith
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11924
- Joined: 2003-04-10 03:45pm
- Location: Cheshire, England
Chapter 3 – The Slayer, the Witch and the Watcher
The sensation of being in a whirl wind suffocated Wesley once again, and just as before it stopped as quickly as it had started. They were no longer in that single room – the sanctum as Polyzysis had called it – but were now standing in the living room of an apartment.
There was a low wooden coffee table placed in front of a twin seat white fabric sofa. Lamp lights were at either end of the room, and daylight was streaming in from the door-sized patio windows that had circular patterns. Wesley could hear water streaming in an adjacent room and a familiar voice yelled out;
“Dawn, you have to hurry up or you will be late for school!” The owner of the voice came around a corner of a hallway and stopped short at the sight of Wesley. She was wearing plain coloured light blue top that came down with a V neck line, a white skirt and knee length matching white boots. Her blonde hair was tied up neatly behind her, and fell slightly on the right shoulder.
Buffy crossed her arms in front of her and sat back on her left leg, with her right leg bent slightly before her as she took in the sight in front of her. “Hey Wes, ever hear of knocking?”
Wesley looked at her for a moment before replying. In truth he didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he had just blurted out to Polyzysis that he wanted to see certain people about their past actions, but somewhere deep down, he had suspected that Polyzysis would refuse. No sooner had he finished talking about them, Wesley had found himself here, and now, he was slightly unsure of what he wanted.
“If I had,’ he began, ‘would you have let me in?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy replied. “But you certainly took the choice away from me. Who is your friend? One of your Wolfram and Hart cronies? An underling?”
Rage started to swell in Wesley. “The Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart has been destroyed – again.” He added. “I don’t think the senior partners are too happy with me right now, and I doubt that any of my former employee’s would take orders from me either.” He finished.
“Yeah, well good for you.” Buffy replied. “Guess the whole law thing wasn’t your cup of tea then?”
“You meant good for ‘us’ didn’t you Buffy?” Wesley ignored her last comment. “After all we were always on the same side weren’t we?” He took a few steps closer to her, while Polyzysis remained still behind him on his left hand side. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m no longer trustworthy, am I?”
“Trust is earned.” Buffy replied tersely. “By deeds.”
“So the destruction of the Los Angeles branch isn’t an action loud enough for you?” Wesley pressed, as he started to pace slowly from one end of the sofa to the other.
“If you did it for the right reasons, then yes.” Buffy responded. “If however you did it for the wrong reason then no.”
“Right reasons? Wrong reasons?” Wesley queried. “And who judge’s the morality of the decisions? Who is the arbiter? You? Tell me, what did you do with that psychotic slayer that you took off our hands earlier this year? She re-habilitated?”
“I must have missed the part where I explain myself to you, Wes.” Buffy responded coolly. “Slayers are no longer subject to crusty old men, we take care of our own now, as we see fit. The Watcher’s Council learned that, didn’t you get the memo?”
“So you value the life of a Slayer greater than any other type of person, even your friends?” Wesley began. “Such that for a psychopath you will do everything you can to help them – as long as they’re slayers – but for former friends of yours, you would betray them? Turn your back on them?”
“You were in L.A. and I was in Rome.” Buffy responded her voice rising slightly as she started responding faster and with more emotion. “I really don’t think you can tell which way my back was facing.”
“You really don’t want to be making any jokes right now Buffy.” Wesley replied, he had stopped his pacing and was standing in front of the coffee table. It and the sofa were between him and Buffy, who was now slightly leaning on the door frame. “We have lost friends, I have lost friends.”
“And you really don’t want to be telling me what to do.” Buffy responded, now uncrossing her arms and walking to stand behind the sofa. “But you lost your friends because you worked at that place, it is not my fault.”
“It is true that we knew the risks going in.” Wesley’s voice now had an edge of steel in it. “But you not only stopped trusting us Buffy, you abandoned us, you betrayed us.”
There was a silence in the room as Wesley stared into Buffy’s eyes. She doesn’t realise it Wesley thought. She still thinks of me as the bumbling Watcher out on his first assignment for the council. The silence was punctured by Dawn, coming out of the shower.
“I’m done.” She said as she too came down the hallway. She was wearing brown pants with a green top, her chestnut hair flowing behind her, she stopped short when she saw Wesley. “Oh, hi Wes. I thought I heard someone in here.”
Wesley’s eyes darted between Buffy and Dawn and he realised what he wanted to do, and somehow he just knew that Polyzysis would also know.
“The woman I loved died a few months ago Buffy.” Wesley begun. “She was consumed by an Ancient demon named Illyria, I watched her die, I watch her struggle and I watched her fight, even though it was all for nothing. But now, finally you will realise my torment, you will see with your own eyes, what it is like to be helpless, to be powerless to protect a loved one.”
A column of green flame sprung up around Dawn, and a haunting scream emerged from her mouth that filled the room. The scream spoke of torment unimaginable and Buffy’s face turned the palest shade of blue when she heard it. She managed to scream out frantically Dawn’s name, and then she sprung into action.
She took two steps and kicked the sofa in front of her, sending it flying towards Wesley and Polyzysis. Her next step was to send her leaping after it, to get close to them, to hurt them, to make them stop what was happening to her sister. But she never made it. The sofa had moved only half the distance to them, when it suddenly stopped and reversed direction.
It caught Buffy square in the chest and she and the sofa flew backwards into the wall. She fell through it to the other side. Pain was kept at bay by adrenaline, and she sprung up to her feet and raced back into the living room. Her steps were hurried as Dawn’s screams drove her on.
Wesley saw Buffy, coming towards him again, but he knew she would never make it. As if on cue she was suspended in the air, and held firm.
“For one full day I watched her waste away.” Wesley made himself heard over Dawn’s screams. “For one full day, I struggled in my impotence to help her, to ease her pain. And now, so shall you. You will hang there Buffy, and you will watch your sister in torment.”
Wesley turned to leave when he heard her call out. “Wesley, stop this! Stop this right now, or I swear I will kill you! Stop it!”
“I believe the point is, Buffy, that you should stop it.” Wesley replied, and then he felt the now familiar sensation of wind ripping at him, and senses overloading.
The scene around Wesley changed immediately. He was no longer standing in a small living room of an apartment with morning light streaming in the windows with a cool fresh air of dawn, but standing in a room inside a small house. The room was decorated with big cushy pillows of bright vibrant colours, with small desks and close draws lining the walls. Occult items were found scattered about, and hung from the walls. It was dark outside and the night was awash with a fragrance of exotic flowers. The nightlife outside could be heard as revelling voices of joy were intermixed with whistles and the beat of music. The air was heavier with humidity and hotter than before.
Voices of two young women could be heard from a room down the hall, giggling and laughing in shared mirth. A familiar voice was insisting that she had heard a noise and an unrecognisable one countered that she was just trying to get out of her arrangement.
“Willow.” Wesley called out, in a firm tone, in order to get their attention. The rustle of sheets could be heard, and then the sound of footsteps were greeted with lights opening as Willow and her friend made their way towards Wesley and Polyzysis.
“Wesley? Is that you?” Willow’s voice was a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What are you doing here?”
Wesley’s heart nearly broke at the sight of her tiny anxious face, shaped like a heart with her strawberry red hair framing it. The girl behind her, was thin and tanned with jet straight brown hair, and her face betrayed nothing other than suspicion and distrust.
“Fred is dead Willow.” Wesley stated flatly. “Did you know that?”
“What - ?” Began Willow, her tiny pale hands twisting uncomfortably in front of her. “When? How? Wesley are you all okay?”
“You didn’t know?” Wesley pressed intently. “You weren’t told, that we were looking for you, asking for your help?”
“Told? Told by whom?” Willow asked with a slight frown creasing her face. For the first time her eyes glanced over at Polyzysis and her eyes seemed to dart to him subconsciously.
“Giles didn’t inform you that we asked for your help?” Wesley asked again.
“Well no,’ Willow replied. “But, well with you guys working for Wolfram and Hart, we weren’t too sure on whose side you were on - ” Willow continued to talk, but the pounding of blood in Wesley’s ears blocked out all of the words.
“Whose side we were on?” Wesley bit out, cutting her off. “Whose side we were on? Is that all you have to say? Is that your excuse for not trying? For not caring about her?”
“Wesley, I don’t know what to say!” Willow sound so lost, so genuine, so Willow. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know, anyway I can help her – or you -’ she added hastily, ‘-let me know, I want to help.”
Again there came that moment of clarity when Wesley knew exactly what he wanted Willow to do for him, what exactly was fitting for her to do for him, and again he knew that somehow Polyzysis would make it happen.
Polyzysis raised his hand and white glow emanated from them, Willow reacted just as fast. She raised her own hand and spoke a single word. A yellow wall of light appeared between her and Polyzysis, protecting Willow and her friend.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing Wesley?!” Willow asked, her eyes now oily black. “I’m your-” whatever she was going to say was cut off as her yellow shield began to melt away. “No!” She yelled and began another incantation.
She never had the chance to finish it, as the white glow emanating from Polyzysis hand surrounded and smothered her. Polyzysis, lowered his hand, and watched. Willow swayed on her feet for a moment, and shook her head – as if trying to clear it – then she lost her balance and fell backwards into her friend’s arms.
Willow began to mumble and try to cast some kind of spell. Wesley calmly approached her with regret etched along his grief ravaged face and looked down upon her.
“No spell, no prayer to any Goddess can help you now Willow.” He said softly. “You will be like her, helpless, weak, her own amazing intellect unable to release her from her torment. The more you try and use your powers, the weaker you will become. Your greatest asset, your greatest talent will not avail you in this. You will lie, and suffer in impotence as she did.”
At this point a wooden stake came flying out of the girl’s hand directed at Wesley, after the stake had travelled just a short distance it stopped in mid air and with a flash it became a dove and flew away.
The young girl was shocked into inaction for a moment as her brain tried to process what just happened. Wesley calmly looked at her from the corner of his eye and simply said; “I don’t know you.” And with that, he and were Polyzysis gone.
As the wind in Wesley’s ears died down, he heard a man’s voice talking – it would seem – on the telephone.
“No, Andrew, calm down.” Rupert Giles’ voice was lined heavily with sleep. Outside it was pitch black, but unlike the scene Wesley had just left, there was no revelling nightlife filtering in through the windows. Just the opposite in fact, outside it was still as water, and quiet. The only sound that could be heard were nocturnal animals going about their business.
The room Wesley and Polyzysis had appeared in was a proper English sitting room with a medium sized coffee table in the middle, surrounded by four tweed armchairs. A fireplace was at the opposite end of the room – although it was not currently in use, and large writing desk at the opposite.
Sitting in the armchair with his back to Wesley and Polyzysis was Rupert Giles. On a small table to his left sat a mostly empty cognac glass, and on his lap was a book. Giles was currently leaning on the left arm of the chair, holding a telephone receiver to his ear.
“Andrew,’ Giles said. “Listen to me, hang up and try to call Willow right now. Tell her everything that you just told me, I will get some books to read exactly what’s happening, just to make sure. Call me back. Okay?” After a moment, Giles hung up the receiver, he picked up the book in his lap and placed it on the coffee table before him.
As Giles stood up, Wesley felt that Polyzysis had melted into one of the shadows of the room. Wesley took one step into the room and moved to stand in front of the writing table, while Giles picked up his cognac glass and carried it over to the mantle above the fire place.
“Willow won’t be able to help.” Wesley spoke into the silence. Giles spun around and looked at him. “Hello Rupert, you’re looking well.”
“Wesley.” Giles replied. “I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.” Giles hadn’t moved from the fire place yet, and had casually let his hand drop to his side. “What did you mean about what you just said?”
“It is pretty self explanatory.” Wesley replied. “Willow will not be able to help Buffy and Dawn, not at the moment.”
“What have you done Wesley?” Giles asked, while he took off his glasses and gave the bridge of his nose a pinch.
“I think you know Rupert.” Wesley replied. “Shouldn’t the pertinent question be; what am I going to do next?”
“No,’ replied Giles. “That would be a waste of time, since we both know what is going to happen next.” Faster than one would have expected for a man his age Giles crossed the length of the room in two quick strides. His left hand extended outward in front of him to unbalance Wesley, and his right held up high, clutching an iron poker that he had obtained from the fire place he was standing in front of, not moments before.
Just as Giles’s left hand had made contact with Wesley’s shirt, Wesley began to move. Skills honed during his time on his own hunting demons and vampires in Los Angeles after Angel and the rest had abandoned him sprang into action.
His right hand reached up and twisted Giles’ left thumb violently, making the whole arm bend, up and away. As Giles was bringing the iron poker down, Wesley took one step in with his left foot, snaked his left had up Giles’ right arm, and pivoted on his forward leg. Hey guided the iron poker away from hitting him, and his right hand flexed outward, his sleeve knife popped out, and flashed in his hand.
Quick as a snake, he struck out and stabbed Giles in the right kidney. Giles let out groan of pain and collapsed on the Persian rug; the iron poker fell from his grasp and clanged loudly along the wooden floorboards. Wesley looked down at Giles for a moment, and then kicked him viciously in the wound he had just made. Another groan of pain escaped Giles’ lips.
“You deserve this pain, you know that don’t you Rupert?” Wesley bit out angrily. “You abandoned us, you and that Slayer you’ve never been able to control.”
“Spare me the self-righteous rant Wesley.” Giles groaned out. “I am starting to get bored now already – Ahhh!” He yelled as Wesley kicked him again.
“Yes, play the strong hero if you like.” Wesley commentated. “But the pain you will feel will be her pain, you will experience it just like she did!”
“I was wrong, Wesley.” Giles groaned out. “I need to tell you this, I was wrong.”
“You think that will stop this?!” Wesley demanded.
“No, I need to say it.” Giles struggled. “You need to hear it … I was wrong, it turns out that you had a lot to teach Faith about how not-” Giles sentence was cut off short as another violent kick to the right kidney wound sent waves of pain coursing through his mind.
“Sorry Rupert, were you blabbering on about something?” Wesley mocked him. “I will leave you now, but know that I will hold true to my promise. She was slowly wasting away from the inside, her body burning up. I assure you that you will feel every minute of it. Enjoy.” Wesley saw Polyzysis emerge from the shadow he had blended into earlier, and with a wave of his hand, Giles eyes became unfocused.
His entire body started to shake as spasms rocked it. His brow burst into sweat, and along all of this a pool of blood was collecting underneath. As the wind once again started to bash Wesley’s body, he heard the telephone on the small table begin to ring.
The sensation of being in a whirl wind suffocated Wesley once again, and just as before it stopped as quickly as it had started. They were no longer in that single room – the sanctum as Polyzysis had called it – but were now standing in the living room of an apartment.
There was a low wooden coffee table placed in front of a twin seat white fabric sofa. Lamp lights were at either end of the room, and daylight was streaming in from the door-sized patio windows that had circular patterns. Wesley could hear water streaming in an adjacent room and a familiar voice yelled out;
“Dawn, you have to hurry up or you will be late for school!” The owner of the voice came around a corner of a hallway and stopped short at the sight of Wesley. She was wearing plain coloured light blue top that came down with a V neck line, a white skirt and knee length matching white boots. Her blonde hair was tied up neatly behind her, and fell slightly on the right shoulder.
Buffy crossed her arms in front of her and sat back on her left leg, with her right leg bent slightly before her as she took in the sight in front of her. “Hey Wes, ever hear of knocking?”
Wesley looked at her for a moment before replying. In truth he didn’t know what he was supposed to do, he had just blurted out to Polyzysis that he wanted to see certain people about their past actions, but somewhere deep down, he had suspected that Polyzysis would refuse. No sooner had he finished talking about them, Wesley had found himself here, and now, he was slightly unsure of what he wanted.
“If I had,’ he began, ‘would you have let me in?”
“I don’t know.” Buffy replied. “But you certainly took the choice away from me. Who is your friend? One of your Wolfram and Hart cronies? An underling?”
Rage started to swell in Wesley. “The Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart has been destroyed – again.” He added. “I don’t think the senior partners are too happy with me right now, and I doubt that any of my former employee’s would take orders from me either.” He finished.
“Yeah, well good for you.” Buffy replied. “Guess the whole law thing wasn’t your cup of tea then?”
“You meant good for ‘us’ didn’t you Buffy?” Wesley ignored her last comment. “After all we were always on the same side weren’t we?” He took a few steps closer to her, while Polyzysis remained still behind him on his left hand side. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m no longer trustworthy, am I?”
“Trust is earned.” Buffy replied tersely. “By deeds.”
“So the destruction of the Los Angeles branch isn’t an action loud enough for you?” Wesley pressed, as he started to pace slowly from one end of the sofa to the other.
“If you did it for the right reasons, then yes.” Buffy responded. “If however you did it for the wrong reason then no.”
“Right reasons? Wrong reasons?” Wesley queried. “And who judge’s the morality of the decisions? Who is the arbiter? You? Tell me, what did you do with that psychotic slayer that you took off our hands earlier this year? She re-habilitated?”
“I must have missed the part where I explain myself to you, Wes.” Buffy responded coolly. “Slayers are no longer subject to crusty old men, we take care of our own now, as we see fit. The Watcher’s Council learned that, didn’t you get the memo?”
“So you value the life of a Slayer greater than any other type of person, even your friends?” Wesley began. “Such that for a psychopath you will do everything you can to help them – as long as they’re slayers – but for former friends of yours, you would betray them? Turn your back on them?”
“You were in L.A. and I was in Rome.” Buffy responded her voice rising slightly as she started responding faster and with more emotion. “I really don’t think you can tell which way my back was facing.”
“You really don’t want to be making any jokes right now Buffy.” Wesley replied, he had stopped his pacing and was standing in front of the coffee table. It and the sofa were between him and Buffy, who was now slightly leaning on the door frame. “We have lost friends, I have lost friends.”
“And you really don’t want to be telling me what to do.” Buffy responded, now uncrossing her arms and walking to stand behind the sofa. “But you lost your friends because you worked at that place, it is not my fault.”
“It is true that we knew the risks going in.” Wesley’s voice now had an edge of steel in it. “But you not only stopped trusting us Buffy, you abandoned us, you betrayed us.”
There was a silence in the room as Wesley stared into Buffy’s eyes. She doesn’t realise it Wesley thought. She still thinks of me as the bumbling Watcher out on his first assignment for the council. The silence was punctured by Dawn, coming out of the shower.
“I’m done.” She said as she too came down the hallway. She was wearing brown pants with a green top, her chestnut hair flowing behind her, she stopped short when she saw Wesley. “Oh, hi Wes. I thought I heard someone in here.”
Wesley’s eyes darted between Buffy and Dawn and he realised what he wanted to do, and somehow he just knew that Polyzysis would also know.
“The woman I loved died a few months ago Buffy.” Wesley begun. “She was consumed by an Ancient demon named Illyria, I watched her die, I watch her struggle and I watched her fight, even though it was all for nothing. But now, finally you will realise my torment, you will see with your own eyes, what it is like to be helpless, to be powerless to protect a loved one.”
A column of green flame sprung up around Dawn, and a haunting scream emerged from her mouth that filled the room. The scream spoke of torment unimaginable and Buffy’s face turned the palest shade of blue when she heard it. She managed to scream out frantically Dawn’s name, and then she sprung into action.
She took two steps and kicked the sofa in front of her, sending it flying towards Wesley and Polyzysis. Her next step was to send her leaping after it, to get close to them, to hurt them, to make them stop what was happening to her sister. But she never made it. The sofa had moved only half the distance to them, when it suddenly stopped and reversed direction.
It caught Buffy square in the chest and she and the sofa flew backwards into the wall. She fell through it to the other side. Pain was kept at bay by adrenaline, and she sprung up to her feet and raced back into the living room. Her steps were hurried as Dawn’s screams drove her on.
Wesley saw Buffy, coming towards him again, but he knew she would never make it. As if on cue she was suspended in the air, and held firm.
“For one full day I watched her waste away.” Wesley made himself heard over Dawn’s screams. “For one full day, I struggled in my impotence to help her, to ease her pain. And now, so shall you. You will hang there Buffy, and you will watch your sister in torment.”
Wesley turned to leave when he heard her call out. “Wesley, stop this! Stop this right now, or I swear I will kill you! Stop it!”
“I believe the point is, Buffy, that you should stop it.” Wesley replied, and then he felt the now familiar sensation of wind ripping at him, and senses overloading.
The scene around Wesley changed immediately. He was no longer standing in a small living room of an apartment with morning light streaming in the windows with a cool fresh air of dawn, but standing in a room inside a small house. The room was decorated with big cushy pillows of bright vibrant colours, with small desks and close draws lining the walls. Occult items were found scattered about, and hung from the walls. It was dark outside and the night was awash with a fragrance of exotic flowers. The nightlife outside could be heard as revelling voices of joy were intermixed with whistles and the beat of music. The air was heavier with humidity and hotter than before.
Voices of two young women could be heard from a room down the hall, giggling and laughing in shared mirth. A familiar voice was insisting that she had heard a noise and an unrecognisable one countered that she was just trying to get out of her arrangement.
“Willow.” Wesley called out, in a firm tone, in order to get their attention. The rustle of sheets could be heard, and then the sound of footsteps were greeted with lights opening as Willow and her friend made their way towards Wesley and Polyzysis.
“Wesley? Is that you?” Willow’s voice was a mixture of concern and curiosity. “What are you doing here?”
Wesley’s heart nearly broke at the sight of her tiny anxious face, shaped like a heart with her strawberry red hair framing it. The girl behind her, was thin and tanned with jet straight brown hair, and her face betrayed nothing other than suspicion and distrust.
“Fred is dead Willow.” Wesley stated flatly. “Did you know that?”
“What - ?” Began Willow, her tiny pale hands twisting uncomfortably in front of her. “When? How? Wesley are you all okay?”
“You didn’t know?” Wesley pressed intently. “You weren’t told, that we were looking for you, asking for your help?”
“Told? Told by whom?” Willow asked with a slight frown creasing her face. For the first time her eyes glanced over at Polyzysis and her eyes seemed to dart to him subconsciously.
“Giles didn’t inform you that we asked for your help?” Wesley asked again.
“Well no,’ Willow replied. “But, well with you guys working for Wolfram and Hart, we weren’t too sure on whose side you were on - ” Willow continued to talk, but the pounding of blood in Wesley’s ears blocked out all of the words.
“Whose side we were on?” Wesley bit out, cutting her off. “Whose side we were on? Is that all you have to say? Is that your excuse for not trying? For not caring about her?”
“Wesley, I don’t know what to say!” Willow sound so lost, so genuine, so Willow. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know, anyway I can help her – or you -’ she added hastily, ‘-let me know, I want to help.”
Again there came that moment of clarity when Wesley knew exactly what he wanted Willow to do for him, what exactly was fitting for her to do for him, and again he knew that somehow Polyzysis would make it happen.
Polyzysis raised his hand and white glow emanated from them, Willow reacted just as fast. She raised her own hand and spoke a single word. A yellow wall of light appeared between her and Polyzysis, protecting Willow and her friend.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing Wesley?!” Willow asked, her eyes now oily black. “I’m your-” whatever she was going to say was cut off as her yellow shield began to melt away. “No!” She yelled and began another incantation.
She never had the chance to finish it, as the white glow emanating from Polyzysis hand surrounded and smothered her. Polyzysis, lowered his hand, and watched. Willow swayed on her feet for a moment, and shook her head – as if trying to clear it – then she lost her balance and fell backwards into her friend’s arms.
Willow began to mumble and try to cast some kind of spell. Wesley calmly approached her with regret etched along his grief ravaged face and looked down upon her.
“No spell, no prayer to any Goddess can help you now Willow.” He said softly. “You will be like her, helpless, weak, her own amazing intellect unable to release her from her torment. The more you try and use your powers, the weaker you will become. Your greatest asset, your greatest talent will not avail you in this. You will lie, and suffer in impotence as she did.”
At this point a wooden stake came flying out of the girl’s hand directed at Wesley, after the stake had travelled just a short distance it stopped in mid air and with a flash it became a dove and flew away.
The young girl was shocked into inaction for a moment as her brain tried to process what just happened. Wesley calmly looked at her from the corner of his eye and simply said; “I don’t know you.” And with that, he and were Polyzysis gone.
As the wind in Wesley’s ears died down, he heard a man’s voice talking – it would seem – on the telephone.
“No, Andrew, calm down.” Rupert Giles’ voice was lined heavily with sleep. Outside it was pitch black, but unlike the scene Wesley had just left, there was no revelling nightlife filtering in through the windows. Just the opposite in fact, outside it was still as water, and quiet. The only sound that could be heard were nocturnal animals going about their business.
The room Wesley and Polyzysis had appeared in was a proper English sitting room with a medium sized coffee table in the middle, surrounded by four tweed armchairs. A fireplace was at the opposite end of the room – although it was not currently in use, and large writing desk at the opposite.
Sitting in the armchair with his back to Wesley and Polyzysis was Rupert Giles. On a small table to his left sat a mostly empty cognac glass, and on his lap was a book. Giles was currently leaning on the left arm of the chair, holding a telephone receiver to his ear.
“Andrew,’ Giles said. “Listen to me, hang up and try to call Willow right now. Tell her everything that you just told me, I will get some books to read exactly what’s happening, just to make sure. Call me back. Okay?” After a moment, Giles hung up the receiver, he picked up the book in his lap and placed it on the coffee table before him.
As Giles stood up, Wesley felt that Polyzysis had melted into one of the shadows of the room. Wesley took one step into the room and moved to stand in front of the writing table, while Giles picked up his cognac glass and carried it over to the mantle above the fire place.
“Willow won’t be able to help.” Wesley spoke into the silence. Giles spun around and looked at him. “Hello Rupert, you’re looking well.”
“Wesley.” Giles replied. “I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.” Giles hadn’t moved from the fire place yet, and had casually let his hand drop to his side. “What did you mean about what you just said?”
“It is pretty self explanatory.” Wesley replied. “Willow will not be able to help Buffy and Dawn, not at the moment.”
“What have you done Wesley?” Giles asked, while he took off his glasses and gave the bridge of his nose a pinch.
“I think you know Rupert.” Wesley replied. “Shouldn’t the pertinent question be; what am I going to do next?”
“No,’ replied Giles. “That would be a waste of time, since we both know what is going to happen next.” Faster than one would have expected for a man his age Giles crossed the length of the room in two quick strides. His left hand extended outward in front of him to unbalance Wesley, and his right held up high, clutching an iron poker that he had obtained from the fire place he was standing in front of, not moments before.
Just as Giles’s left hand had made contact with Wesley’s shirt, Wesley began to move. Skills honed during his time on his own hunting demons and vampires in Los Angeles after Angel and the rest had abandoned him sprang into action.
His right hand reached up and twisted Giles’ left thumb violently, making the whole arm bend, up and away. As Giles was bringing the iron poker down, Wesley took one step in with his left foot, snaked his left had up Giles’ right arm, and pivoted on his forward leg. Hey guided the iron poker away from hitting him, and his right hand flexed outward, his sleeve knife popped out, and flashed in his hand.
Quick as a snake, he struck out and stabbed Giles in the right kidney. Giles let out groan of pain and collapsed on the Persian rug; the iron poker fell from his grasp and clanged loudly along the wooden floorboards. Wesley looked down at Giles for a moment, and then kicked him viciously in the wound he had just made. Another groan of pain escaped Giles’ lips.
“You deserve this pain, you know that don’t you Rupert?” Wesley bit out angrily. “You abandoned us, you and that Slayer you’ve never been able to control.”
“Spare me the self-righteous rant Wesley.” Giles groaned out. “I am starting to get bored now already – Ahhh!” He yelled as Wesley kicked him again.
“Yes, play the strong hero if you like.” Wesley commentated. “But the pain you will feel will be her pain, you will experience it just like she did!”
“I was wrong, Wesley.” Giles groaned out. “I need to tell you this, I was wrong.”
“You think that will stop this?!” Wesley demanded.
“No, I need to say it.” Giles struggled. “You need to hear it … I was wrong, it turns out that you had a lot to teach Faith about how not-” Giles sentence was cut off short as another violent kick to the right kidney wound sent waves of pain coursing through his mind.
“Sorry Rupert, were you blabbering on about something?” Wesley mocked him. “I will leave you now, but know that I will hold true to my promise. She was slowly wasting away from the inside, her body burning up. I assure you that you will feel every minute of it. Enjoy.” Wesley saw Polyzysis emerge from the shadow he had blended into earlier, and with a wave of his hand, Giles eyes became unfocused.
His entire body started to shake as spasms rocked it. His brow burst into sweat, and along all of this a pool of blood was collecting underneath. As the wind once again started to bash Wesley’s body, he heard the telephone on the small table begin to ring.
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
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Crazedwraith
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 11924
- Joined: 2003-04-10 03:45pm
- Location: Cheshire, England
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