Title: Fear (1/?): Story 11 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" Series

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: The Angel Investigations gang belongs to Joss Whedon. Clayton Gilman, Trudi, and Dan Wakefield belong to me.

Rating: PG-13 bordering on R for violence, adult language and sexual content.

Spoilers: Up through "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been" for Angel, the entire fourth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and the first 10 stories in this series, especially the first one, "Illusions" and the tenth one, "Descension."

Timeline: Takes place immediately following "Descension."

Summary: An old friend unexpectedly shows up in L.A. in time to rescue Cordelia; Kate and Wesley realize they are searching for a serial killer.

Distribution: Anyone with previous permission to archive the series may take it without asking. Anyone else, just ask and let me know the link. Otherwise, the entire series thus far is being archived at www.geocities.com/angel_roswell/whoiam.html.

Category: Story

Subcategories: Suspense/horror/angst/friendship

Feedback: Motivates me to write more.

Dedication: For Andrew. Thanks for the feedback.

Author's Note I: Okay. People have been asking about what happened to the Roswellians. Since I've written so many Roswell fics in the past, this series is mainly focused on the Angel Investigations crew. There will be more Roswell stories coming, but they won't be as predominate as the Angel ones. I do have about 8 more crossovers planned. I have the entire series planned out (though things can change--this story, for example, wasn't in the original outline for the series), but there will be roughly 38 or so fics in this series as long as I continue to go by the original plans. :)

Author's Note II: Some people also asked whether I was going for a Kate/Wesley pairing. To be honest, I hadn't planned one. This serial killer arc wasn't originally part of the series at all so there was no intent for them to wind up together. In fact, I'd sort of planned a different route for both of them, though now I'm not certain what's going to happen. I am open to opinions/suggestions, if anyone feels like writing and letting me know what you think.


Fear (Part One)

"This isn't a murder case."

Kate looked up at Wesley. "What?"

He handed her a file. She studied it for a moment. The woman who had made the report had been grabbed from behind and dragged into a van where she had been tied up and assaulted. The attacker had left for a short time, in which she had managed to escape and go to the local police department. That had occurred in a town south of L.A. called Blue Mound.

She read over the victim's statement. "When he grabbed me, he said he'd been watching me. He knew my name. He said that it was time for my descension. The man held a knife to my throat and dragged me to a tan van." Kate glanced at Wesley before continuing. "The van was full of torture devices and I knew without a doubt that he was going to kill me..."


Cordelia's eyes widened in horror as her attacker dragged her to a dark blue van. She had to do something; she had to at least try and get away. He pressed the knife to her throat again, as if he somehow sensed that she might put up a fight. The cold steel against her flesh paralyzed her. "I can't wait to fuck you," he whispered, and she shuddered involuntarily.

Oh, god. I don't want to die, she thought. Not this way. Please, no.

Her attacker kept the knife against her throat with one hand and with the other, he opened the back door of the van. She could see knives and chains and ropes and every instrument of torture ever invented that she'd only seen in her worst nightmares. They were all lined up along the sides of the back of the van. In the middle of the floor there was a pillow and a blanket that were both stained with blood.

Cordelia felt bile rise up in her throat. This is it, she thought wildly. I survived monsters and vampires and a Hellmouth just to become a statistic for some psycho killer.

"It's time for your descension, Cordelia," he whispered into her ear again. He shoved her forward and she stumbled and crashed into the bumper of the van, but quickly turned around to face him, ignoring the pain in her knees. She could see that through the eyeholes of his ski mask, his eyes were an icy shade of blue. He was dressed all in black.

He moved towards her, holding the knife out threateningly. There was no way she could escape. She shrunk away from him, too terrified to scream.

A second later she heard a shout from across the street. Her attacker, startled, turned to look at who had shouted. Someone began running towards them.

Without another moment's hesitation, the masked man grabbed her and forced her into the back of the van. Cordelia groped around, desperately reaching for a weapon to use against him.

He was suddenly shoved away and she scrambled out of the van. She took off running and made it across the street and into the alley before she looked back. Her attacker took off in the opposite direction. She leaned against the wall and tried to focus on breathing. She closed her eyes.

Her rescuer walked towards her. "Hey, are you oka--oh, my god. Cordelia?"

She opened her eyes, trying to focus on his face. It took a few seconds to register, but then she gave him a weak smile. "Hey, Oz," was all she managed to say before she passed out.


Not a lot got to Kate Lockley. She had witnessed too many horrors, battled too many demons. Literally. But sometimes the worst demon of all turned out to be someone completely human. She felt sick to her stomach as she finished reading over seven cases that were definitely connected.

"All of them were brutally assaulted, and the killer not only slit their throats, but stabbed them, too. And all of the families or friends of the victims reported some possession missing--an item of jewelry, a scarf..."

Wesley held out another file, grimacing. "A witness reported seeing this young woman getting into a tan van with a tall male who had dark blond hair. He assumed they knew each other. Two days later, her body was found in a nearby alley by a homeless man."

"Same M.O.?"

He nodded. "And her sister reported a golden locket missing."

"Trophies," Kate murmured, rubbing her forehead. "Sometimes to remember the murders, a killer will take something belonging to his victims as a souvenir or a trophy."

Wesley shook his head in disgust, his face paler than usual. "Sick bastard."

She nodded in agreement, her own stomach still churning. "You know, we've been at this for hours. I could use a break."

"There's an all-night coffee shop down the street," he told her.

Kate didn't hesitate. "Let's go."


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