[Reviews - 137]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2141 times

- Text Size +




Chapter 8


Spike slowly fought his way back to consciousness. He was immediately hit by a wave of agony, and he tried to plunge back down into oblivion, without success. The stench of his own blood mixed with burning flesh made him want to vomit. What the sodding hell was happening? He opened his eyes blearily, and discovered that the room looked as though it was swinging round him as if he was on a gimbal. He strained to sit up, but could only move his head. The gnawing pain was centred in his torso and neck; it felt as though his throat had been torn out. He lowered his eyes and looked down his body to the source of the burning in his chest. He could make no sense of it - something dark red and glistening poked through his skin.

He looked at the wall beyond his feet. Dozens of photographs of vampires, all in full vamp face, stared back at him. Most looked unconscious, some looked as if they were yelling obscenities or screaming in pain. Others looked passively into the camera, seemingly having accepted their fate, or perhaps beyond caring. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these fellow demons existed no more.

He turned his head painfully to his right and saw banks of electronic equipment, microscopes and computers. On a table next to him a tray of bloodied surgical instruments mixed with, bizarrely, implements that would not look out of place in a workman’s toolbox. All the necessary tools needed for vivisection, or whatever happened here. His first desperate thought was that the Initiative must have recaptured him, and that history was repeating itself – they were doing their “tests” on him. He couldn’t go through that again. Overcome with rage, he closed his eyes and howled out his terror and despair.

Suddenly, memory returned and his eyes snapped open. The object sticking out of his chest was the crossbow bolt that had hit him in the back when they were attacked in the tunnels, and it was now forced right through his body. He was bound to an operating table, metal bands restraining him, but he could think of only one thing.

“Buffy!”

The last thing he could remember, was trying to fight off several humans and failing, as his chip did its usual job of beating him down. His stomach clenched in fear. What had they done to his Slayer? He looked to his left and saw a man in blue overalls with the name “Treadwell, A,” on a badge pinned to the pocket.

“What have you done with Buffy you bastard? Where is she? If you have hurt one hair of her head, I’ll put my hand down your throat and rip your sodding lungs out! Buffy! BUFFY!”

The man hastily took up a crossbow, levelled it at Spike and yelled “Hey, Jeff – hurry up, this one’s going crazy!” The man’s obvious fear gave the vampire a deep glow of satisfaction.

Professor Mackness hurried down the corridor towards his laboratory, while Johnson puffed along behind. The incessant howling had been unsettling enough, but it was now replaced by an even more intolerable bellowing. The Professor shot Johnson an annoyed look, as they entered the room and he got his first glimpse of Spike, “My God Johnson, why is this creature conscious?”

“Sorry Prof., we hit him with two tranked bolts - I can’t understand why he is awake – that ought to’ve kept him under for at least another hour, plenty of time to get the blo...- darn collar off.”

Professor Mackness approached the helpless vampire and stared at the bloody ruin of its neck. The collar was just as Jeff Johnson had described: silver with strange etched markings and a beautiful blue crystal hanging from it. It was then that he looked down the vampire’s body and saw the bolt protruding from its chest.

“Why haven’t you removed this?” He gestured towards the bolt. The professor knew that these demons did not experience pain in the same way as humans, but nevertheless the pathetic creature before him was clearly in distress. Professor Mackness was surprised at how upset he felt – he hated to think of himself as responsible for causing even a vampire unnecessary suffering.

“We didn’t think it would take so much time to get the damn thing off its neck, so we didn’t bother, you see, the collar seems to have no opening – we’ve tried everything from bolt cutters to saws, but nothing even makes a scratch on it. Shame we can’t just saw off the vamp’s head, but then we run the risk of the collar turning to dust.”

The professor returned to his perusal of the collar, taking care not to get too near the demon – they were so unpredictable. He became aware that the creature was yelling something repetitively – it sounded like “buffy”.

“Who or what is a “buffy”?” He asked

“I am.”

The professor swung round and was confronted by an angry young woman and an older man.

Spike drank in the vision of his golden Slayer, her face creased into a scowl as she stood in the centre of the room, as if she owned it. Suddenly, all his pain seemed to vanish as relief and pleasure washed over him. That’s my girl!

“Where did you spring from? This is private property you know, you really shouldn’t be here.” The harassed professor tried to usher her out of the room. It was like trying to push against a concrete block. She just stood there and glared at him, arms crossed. She pushed past the professor and looked down at Spike. “Are you okay?”

“Oh great luv, just thought I’d lie here and model the latest in vampire shishkebab.” Spike croaked sarcastically,

She reached out her hand, meaning to remove the bolt when Mackness said, “My dear, I know he looks human, but please believe me he is a vampire, and if he were free, he would try to kill us all. Although, strangely, he seems to know your name - sometimes they use a thrall or charm to inveigle their way into people’s trust - I assume that is what has, er, happened here.” He faltered to a halt, the girl didn’t seem to be impressed by anything he had said, and in fact seemed to be getting angrier with him for some reason.

Buffy swung round and glowered at the professor, and Spike was glad that for once, someone else was at the other end of Buffy’s fury,

“Don’t be ridiculous! He wouldn’t hurt us.” She glanced over to a now grinning vampire. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he would never harm us. I know all about vampires, I’ve dusted more of them than you’ve had hot dinners, but this one I’ve known for years and he’s harmless. He has tried to kill me but it was a long time ago and he never even got close to it…”

“Hey! In the room here,” spluttered Spike angrily, “bleeding character assassination, that is! I’ve nearly offed you loads of times…..!”

“Shut up Spike,” Buffy said automatically, “As I was saying,” she frowned over at the vampire “he’s been helping me. In fact he couldn’t hurt us even if he wanted to”

Spike groaned, now she was going to spoil it all

“He has an electronic chip thing stuck in his brain, which zaps him if he tries to hurt a human.”

Spike would have covered his face in shame, had he been able to move. This was too much for any self-respecting vampire to bear.

Mackness watched the interplay between the young woman and the vampire with fascination, she and the demon seemed to have some sort of a connection, an easy – what was it – camaraderie? And the vampire’s expression seemed almost loving – could that be – no surely not.

Giles spoke up for the first time, “I must agree. This vampire doesn’t belong here, he was brought to England against his will, and we are trying to get him back home to America. He and Buffy …”

Professor Mackness gasped, “Surely you and he are not ….?”

“Eeew no! As if! Nothing like that.” Buffy said in a disgusted tone, failing to see Spike’s expression as it quickly changed from a look of hurt, to stony indifference. “He’s –“

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright, crackling energy and Buffy felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand to attention. A rushing wind blew all the loose papers into a swirling dance high above their heads and someone shouted “Look at the crystal, it’s glowing!”

All eyes turned to Spike, as a soft turquoise light pulsed around him. He felt a kind of warm comforting peace, and the raw pain that had been clawing at his throat faded away. Was this it? Was he on his way out? He lay as still as the corpse he was, the crossbow bold still protruding from his chest. With his eyes on Buffy, he waited for the end.

The sparking, crackling sound in the room began to grow louder and was accompanied by blue flashes of fiery lightning, blinding them with their brilliance. Just as Buffy was getting ready to move towards Spike, she was stopped in her tracks by a voice as commandingly powerful, as it was loud.

“RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!”





You must login (register) to review.