Part Three
There are those born into this world that see what others may not see. There are
those born to this world that fight what others may not fight. And there are those
born to this world that live what others may not live.
The first shall be the harbingers of Darkness. The second shall be the warriors against
the Darkness. And the third shall live through the Darkness, and bring about a second
Light.
—The Book of Three, 539 A.D.
Buffy
Professor Walsh was giving me the oddest looks all through Psych. Maybe it was cause
I was staring at Riley with narrowed eyes. Maybe it was cause he was staring at me
with that "duh" look in his eyes, like he still hadn’t recovered from the
shock.
Maybe she was staring at Willow, who had been crying all night and looked kinda splotchy.
Later, I found out why she was staring. I really hate it when my teachers turn out
to be in league with…whatever she was in league with. I’m still a little fuzzy on
the whole concept of why she’d set up huge underground laboratories and recruited
college students to capture demons and test them. I think it was some kind of revenge
gig.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. And completely off subject.
I stopped by Riley on my way out of class. "So, did you think about my offer?"
I asked. He glanced at Professor Walsh, at which point I began to suspect the Psych
teacher wasn’t all that she was cracked up to be. Or maybe she was more.
"I can’t tell you anything," he said. He glanced the professor again. I
sighed, turned and marched over to her.
"Okay, maybe you know nothing about this and I’m making a fool of myself, but
going by Riley’s not-so-subtle signals and the fact you’ve been staring at me for
the last hour, I’m guessing you’re the one to threaten here," I told her, catching
her cold eyes. Nothing past acrossed her face. Nothing passed across mine.
"I wouldn’t try threatening me Ms. Summers," she warned cooly.
"What? You’re going to give me a bad grade?" I asked sweetly. "I quake
with fear. There are things going on in this town you can’t possibly imagine. I need
to know what you’re doing." Professor Walsh glanced at Willow who was a few
steps away, glaring at Riley. When I told her what happened she’d muttered something
about lying bastards and how she’d known it all along. When I hesitantly agreed men
were evil she started crying. "What I know she knows," I said, following
her gaze. "So get on with it."
"Some of our ‘guests’ have spoken of a Slayer. We thought they were delusional
from the drugs," Professor Walsh said calmly. "What precisely is a Slayer?"
"Uh-uh, you first," I instructed, amazed that this woman believed herself
a menace to vampires. She’d never opened a book of prophecies in her life, had she?
She gave me a sharp look.
"I don’t think you’re in a position to be dicatating Ms. Summers. You apparently
have something of ours. You will return it." I arched my eyebrows at her.
"Oh. I’m not in a position to dictate. I wouldn’t send out any more men
Professor. I patrol at night, and since I don’t know your friends, I’ll have to assume
you’re enemies. Ask any of your ‘guests’ what the Slayer does to her enemies."
I just loved the look on Riley’s face. This is not amusing, I told
myself. Stop being amused. I gave them my sweetest smile and stalked out of
the room, Willow beside me. Then I got annoyed.
"Who do they think they are? I’ve spent four years giving up my social life
to fight these things, and they think they can just waltz in and zap them? And not
tell me?" I demanded.
"Very rude," Willow agreed.
"Rude? What’s rude? You guys aren’t talking about me, right?" Xander asked,
appearing out of nowhere. Willow jumped.
"Xander, you know you’re not supposed to sneak up on us Campus People. We don’t
have the skills of the wild anymore," I teased.
"What are you doing here?" Willow asked. "I thought you had a job…digging."
"Oh. Right. Well, they’re kind of reluctant to continue with that one since
the murders and I was kinda reluctant to continue since the syphilis," he replied.
"But really, I’m here to bring news of iminent doom!"
"You sound way too cheerful about that," I informed him, groaning
inwardly. Not again.
"Do not!" he muttered defensively. Willow and I exchanged looks.
"Completely yes. But that’s okay Xan," I assured him. "So, what’s
the sitch?"
"Giles just got a call from a mysterious source—" I gave him a look. "—okay,
Angel, who apparently found a guy having visions which include Mohra demons and the
words ‘End of Days’…ring any bells?" I nodded grimly.
"Does he need me now?"
"Nope, he’s in G-Man mode, he just wanted you gals to be in the know."
"Thank you! I’ll be a lot more comfortable at my classes knowing the world’s
gonna end!" I told him. He grinned.
"Glad to be of service. Now I gotta get back, help with the research. We have
a world to save people!"
"Buh-bye!" I said, pushing him gently off and waving. Willow and I exchanged
smiles and kept walking.
"Buffy, wait!" Riley’s voice called. I turned, crossing my arms to regard
him. He jogged up and stopped beside me. "I need to talk to you about Professor
Walsh."
"Save it Riley," I told him, in no mood. "Unless you’re ready to tell
me everything, I’ve got more important things to worry about."
"More important things?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his face. My
hands tightened involuntarily. I hate the way his bangs hang in his face like
that. Get a haircut! I wanted to yell, but managed to restrain myself.
"Well, I personally would consider the end of the world a tad more important,
but I guess it’s all perspective huh?" I asked brightly, then grabbed Willow’s
arm and hurried away. This was not my day.
*****
"No, it’s not enough time!" I cried, clinging to him for dear life.
"We don’t have a choice, it’s done," he said softly. My heart broken into
a thousand pieces all over again.
"How am I supposed to go on with my life, knowing what we had? What we could
have had?" I sobbed. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t walk away and go back to Sunnydale,
to college. After what we had, nothing would ever be the same. Nothing could ever
equal that, or even come close.
"You won’t," he told me. "No one will know but me." And that’s
almost worse, because I won’t even have it. I won’t even have the memory. I won’t
have the feeling of his pulse, or the taste of chocolate in his mouth, or the glorious
feeling of laying in his arms, hearing his heartbeat.
I can’t forget.
I won’t let myself forget.
I sat up, gasping for breath, and turned to look at the clock. 3:47. Willow was
still fast asleep in her bed. I threw off the covers and slipped out of bed, walking
silently over to the dresser and pulling out a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt.
I left a stake on my pillow, so Willow would know where I was if she woke up, twisted
my hair up with a second, and tucked a third into my wrist sheath.
The halls of the dorm were dark. I glanced at the elevator and took the stairs instead.
Images of Angel flashed in my mind. No. Bad. Not thinking about that. It’s just
a dream.
But it didn’t feel like just a dream.
I emerged into the cool night air and paused, glancing around. The campus was quiet.
I wondered if Professor Walsh had taken my threat seriously. I almost hoped not.
I could really use someone to beat up. That’s terrible! I told myself firmly.
I might have to fight other humans, but I shouldn’t enjoy it…I could really use some
demons to beat up, I amended.
As it turned out, I got my wish.
Angel
I took him back to the apartment and called Doyle and Cordelia. Doyle arrived a half
hour later. Cordelia took an hour and a half.
"Good of you to come," I said when she walked in the door. She glared at
me.
"I hate this job!" she muttered. "What is it now?"
"We’ve got an Apocalypse on our hands," I told her quietly. She groaned.
"Not again! You couldn’t tell me this before I paid like three months
rent in advance?" I eyed her silently. She shook her head and sat down.
"So how do you know this anyway?"
"There’s a prophet downstairs with Doyle. He’s seen visions of it."
"Oooh, now we come equipped with visions."
"Cordelia."
"Okay okay, what do you need?" she asked in her perpetually annoyed tone.
"I want you to take notes on his story and then type it up. And remember the
details."
"Remember the details," Cordelia muttered, grabbing a pad of paper. I followed
her into the elevator and down to the apartment. Doyle and John were sitting on the
couch. John was staring at his shaking hands.
"How’s it going?" I asked, sitting down opposite them.
"John was just telling me about his kids," Doyle said evenly. I figured
it would be best if he waited with the man. He had some experience with visions,
after all.
"This is your prophet?" Cordelia demanded. I gave her a warning
look and she flopped into a chair. "Can we get on with it please? I’m missing
my beauty sleep here."
"Could you tell us again about your visions?" I asked, leaning forward
to regard him intently. He nodded, swallowing nervously.
"I-it all started about three weeks ago. One day in the middle of lunch I was…somewhere
else."
"Where?"
"I don’t know, but it was…everything was on fire. All the buildings were burning,
and there were people everywhere…dead bodies. I looked up and saw a-a monster. It
had wings, and scales and it was going to kill me—And then I was back at the table,
and my friend was asking me what was wrong."
"When did the next one come?"
"Five days later. I was getting ready for bed. This one was more detailed—I
looked up at the sky, but it was gone there was just black. The sun was gone. The
whole sky was…empty. And there were things flying around, horrible things. They were
carrying people, and body parts. And then I woke up again. The next one was three
days later. It was somewhere else and instead of fire, it was—ice. Everything was
ice. Everyone was frozen, and monsters were eating them. One of them looked straight
at me, and laughed—" He broke off, shuddering. I waited, wondering what it was
like to live with these kind of visions.
He took a deep breath and finally continued. "They got more and more frequent.
I couldn’t function anymore. Even when I wasn’t having visions, I would hear these
voices in my head, saying that the End of Days is coming. I would look at someone,
and see their death in my mind…I had to warn them, but no one listens. Why do you
listen?" he asked suddenly, looking up to meet my eyes.
"Because we have to," I said. "Because someone has to stop it."
Part Four
There were two born, in the beginning, given souls and set on a path that no other
beings could endure. They were darkness and light, fire and earth, air and water.
They were matched perfectly, and only together could they find the strength they
would need.
They were born to fight. Darkness is their enemy, Light their only hope of salvation.
They were born to suffer. Pain is their teacher and their enemy. Love is their savior.
One shall be known as the Slayer and the other shall be called the Angel.
And as they were there at the Beginning, so shall they be at the End.
—The Diary of Mihai Svjatopolk, 999 A.D.
Buffy
There were five of them. Big, with very long claws and the ugliest faces I have ever
seen.
And they had wings.
"Hi guys," I said with a nervous smile. "Imagine meeting you here."
They didn’t really want to chat.
I got in a few good kicks, but they didn’t seem to be doing much. In fact, I had
the distinct feeling they were toying with me. I hate that feeling. I backed
one up into the wall and pummeled it before another one pulled me off and cut my
arm in the process. I jumped up on the wall and kicked the second one’s head, and
suddenly found myself being smothered by a huged winged thing descending on
me from above.
I decided this would be a good time to run.
I kicked the thing off me and took off towards my dorm. These things wouldn’t be
so bad—if I had some weapons to work with. Give me a sword, a cross bow, a good battle
ax—or one of those missile launchers Xander was so fond of—and I’d take them all
easily.
Me, alone, with two stakes was not quite as good of an option.
So I was running, and getting away just fine. When I heard Riley’s voice. Yelling
for help.
I should have left him there. I told them not to send anyone out, and if he
was out it was his own damn fault. I should have let him live with his choices.
I just couldn’t do that.
I turned around and sized up the situation. Riley was trying to zap them with his
little gun-thing, and it was having less than no effect. They almost seemed energized.
"Don’t you demons have anything better to do with your time?" I asked under
my breath and broke off a tree branch before running into the fight.
I swung it, hitting one of them in the side of the head. It reeled slightly and the
others backed away. Riley stared at me, unmoving. "Run!" I yelled. It took
him a second, but he finally got the picture. I held them off for a few more minutes
with the tree branch, then dropped it and followed as fast as I could. When I passed
him, I grabbed his hand and pulled him faster after me.
"What are those things?" he asked.
"Don’t ask. Just run!" I yelled back, pulling him faster. I risked
a glance over my shoulder and ran faster at the sight. Three of them were right behind
us, their wings flapping in the dark night. We were nearing the dorm and with one
last burst of speed we pushed into the door. I peeked out enough to see the three
wheel upwards at the very last second, circle for a moment and then fly away. I relaxed
against the door, then remembered Riley and spared him a glare.
"What the hell was that?" I demanded. "Don’t you know not to leap
into something you’re completely unprepared for? Just be glad I saved your sorry
ass!"
"I thought I could stun them," he said in a shocked voice. I rolled my
eyes.
"Riley, you don’t know what you’re doing. And I would suggest you stop doing
it. If you don’t get yourself killed, you’re going to get someone else killed. Leave
it to people who know how, okay?" I wanted to hit him. Really hard.
I walked away.
"Wait," he called. I paused momentarily, but didn’t turn back. "What
did you mean about the Apocalypse? And what were those things?"
"You tell me, I’ll tell you. Good night Riley," I said, trying to keep
the anger out of my voice. I took a deep breath and kept walking.
"Well that was spectacularly unhelpful," I muttered to myself as
I walked back up to my dorm room. I wondered if Riley would be smart enough to stay
here until morning. I decided I really didn’t care. I let myself back into the room.
Willow was still sleeping. 4:13. Should I call Giles, or wait until morning?
Well, someone should get some sleep, I decided, climbing into bed without
changing. Maybe this time I would be able to sleep without dreams.
Maybe.
Giles
"Why didn’t you call me at once?" I asked. Buffy shrugged, looking a bit
too nonchalant for some who had encountered five Korika demons the night before.
"It was four in the morning Giles. I wanted you to sleep," she said firmly.
I repressed the desire to roll my eyes.
"I was awake reading. Next time something of this nature happens you should…should
call me at once," I told her.
"Sorry." She glanced around the living room. "Any news?"
"I haven’t been able to find anything decisive, unfortunately." Unfortunately
indeed. I’d been up all night reading. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes.
"How is the…Riley thing progressing?" Buffy made a face.
"Could he be more annoying? It’s Professor Walsh that really gets to
me though! Adults should know better than to throw impressionable young people out
to the demons like that without any real training!"
I smiled softly. "And what did I do to you?"
She looked startled, then smiled and shook her head. "You know it’s my sacred
duty Giles. Besides, you always made sure I was super-prepared. Never a demon I didn’t
know!"
Not yet anyway. But I was worried about this End of Days thing. True, Angel’s "prophet"
could be simply a man in need of mental help, but the signs all pointed to true prophecies.
Which is what worried me.
Korika demons were also not a reassuring sign, especially since by what Angel had
described of the man’s visions, they seemed to be recurring figures. Korika meant
"Bringer of Death" in ancient Moruvian. Their word for "death"
could also mean "destruction" or "endings". None of the meanings
seemed to point towards happy conclusions.
What I couldn’t tell her was that I had found a prophecy. A prophecy I’d always regarded
as idiotic—until I read it again and found another mention of a Slayer and an Angel
together. Two hundred pages apart the man spoke of them again. It couldn’t be ignored
as coincidence.
I wished I could ignore it. It isn’t a pretty prophecy. Better to be prepared, I
suppose. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I hadn’t even told Angel. I kept
hoping he would find it out on his own, and I wouldn’t have to tell him. As if they
hadn’t gone through enough. As if we all hadn’t.
"Giles?" Buffy asked, in the tone of someone who had said it several times
before. I started.
"Y-yes?" She rolled her eyes.
"I’m gonna go do homework. Patrol a little later. With lots of weapons. Do you
think they’ll be hanging around?"
"Hmm?" I asked, a little distracted by thoughts of the approaching Apocalypse.
"The Korka demons," she reminded me.
"Korika," I corrected her absently.
"Whatever. Do you think they’re still here?" I shook my head.
"No, the Korika are constantly on the move. They can’t stay in any place for
very long because they—" She cut off my explanation.
"Okay, thank you. Just checking." She picked up her purse and started toward
the door, then paused and glanced back at me. "Oh and Giles?" I nodded,
looking up at her. "If I happen to come across anyone like, say, Riley doing
stupid things, could I punch him? Please?"
I smiled and shooed her on her way.
John
I was sitting in Angel’s kitchen, sipping tea. It was a nice apartment—nothing next
to what my home had been like. I missed it. Mostly though, I missed my kids, and
my wife. My Sam…But whenever I looked at her, all I could see was her lying dead
on the floor, a monster (Angel called them demons) ripping her open.
I had to warn her. I had to. But she didn’t understand. Or she did…she thought I
was crazy. I am crazy.
I missed her so much.
And Laura, and Eric, my perfect little children. I couldn’t close my eyes without
seeing visions of them, visions of horrors to terrible to even imagine.
I sat in Angel’s kitchen and sipped tea, and missed them.
And then another vision came.
It ripped into me like they always did, tearing open my insides and laying them before
the universe. I watched as the picture solidified into reality. They were so real—I
could feel the heat of the fires, hear the screams and cries, see the sharp gleam
of claws and the blood of innocent people everywhere…
I stumbled and fell to my knees, crying out in horror as my hand came up from the
ground covered with blood. I tried to get up, struggled and fell again, and then
rose and ran. I ran and ran, but everywhere was the same. The horror didn’t end.
And up in the sky was that terrible blackness, that utter emptyness.
My legs gave out and I fell, staring up at the wall of fire that was coming. I struggled
to stand again, reached out to a big sign, the end ripped off like it was a piece
of paper, not solid wood. I grasped it and pulled myself up, seeing, just before
I was pulled back into reality, the remaining words on the sign—
elcome to Sunnydale.