Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox. Highlander belonged to Davis/Panzer and Rysher. No infringement of these copyrights is intended. All original characters are the property of Wispr. The song titles and lyrics are owned by their respective bands and no profit is made from them.
Author's Note: This story will contain fem-slash, Willow/Buffy pairing. Also I want to thank Rebelrsr for betaing yet another story of mine! The two shows timeline will go AU after Buffy the episode “Prophecy Girl” and the Highlander episode “The Modern Prometheus.”
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4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch.
9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15
Season’s End…
Don't say goodbye
Like we'd never meet again
Leave me a lie
At the season's end...
All was chaos around Willow once Miss Calender had gotten her free from the Hellmouth creature’s tentacle. Willow immediately bent down and picked up the cross and stake that she had dropped earlier, though she wasn’t too sure what help they would offer her against the three headed creature that had burst through the library’s floor from the Hellmouth beneath. She shot a quick glance at the barricaded library doors; Willow was relieved to see them still holding the vampires at bay.
A puff of putrid air was her only warning before one of the three heads clamped its jaws over her left shoulder. Screaming in agony, Willow felt her left arm go limp. She dropped the cross once again as her muscles and shoulder joint were severed and crushed under the cruel teeth. Willow began to beat frantically at the creature’s head with her stake without effect, all the while letting out a scream of terror and agony.
Willow’s screams had a profound effect on her friends.
Outside, at the base of the steps leading to where Buffy and the Master fought, Xander went berserk. Maybe it was something left from the primal possession; any vampire that came near him died in an explosion of dust. All the while, he screamed out Willow’s name in a voice filled with rage and fear.
Angel, who fought alongside Xander, let out a roar as he shifted into game face and redoubled his attacks, showing the brutal efficiency with which a Vampire of his age and strength could kill his opponents.
Giles and Jenny both attacked the head of the monster without regard to their own safety. Giles used his ax, while Jenny swung one of the thick table legs from the broken library table.
Even Cordelia was spurred into action, throwing any loose objects she could lay her manicured fingers on. She completely ignored the blocked library doors behind her, which were being slowly pushed open by the vampires on the other side.
For Buffy, hearing her best friend’s bloodcurdling scream made the world around her slow to a glacial crawl. Feeling as if she was frozen in place, Buffy looked down in time to see one of the creature’s heads lift Willow’s screaming form off the floor. For a moment that felt like an eternity, Willow’s eyes met her own, and Buffy saw the terror and pain there. Those green eyes pleaded with her, and Willow even raised her good hand toward Buffy in a beseeching gesture. She screamed the entire time.
It was at that moment, another of the creature’s heads bit deeply into Willow’s right leg, just above the knee, with a loud crunch. The sound of the thick leg bone splintering echoed through the library. Willow’s eyes rolled up, and she gave another more agonizing scream.
Buffy paralysis was finally broken. For the first time since being Chosen, Buffy and the Slayer part of her were completely focused on one thing: saving Willow.
The Master, seeing the damnable Slayer distracted, wasted no time in throwing a vicious punch at the side her neck with the intent of breaking it. What happened next shocked him.
The Slayer spun in a blinding display of supernatural speed as her own dainty fist sped out to meet his head on.
In stunned disbelieve, the Master watched as his fist seemingly exploded in a haze of bloody flesh and bone. The small part of his mind that wasn’t occupied by the horrendous pain coming from his mangled hand noticed that the Slayer’s hand was also heavily damaged. But not enough to stop her from finishing the job.
Without any sign of effort, the Slayer grabbed him by the throat and as if he weighed nothing and catapulted him up and over her head. For a dizzying moment, he saw the large wooden stake through the broken skylight below him. Then he fell. The wood bursting through his chest was the last thing the Master saw.
Even before he began to turn to dust, Buffy moved her attention to more important matters. She noticed that the head that had bitten Willow’s leg was now snapping at Giles. Judging by the slices in its hide, Giles had scored well with his ax.
For Willow, though, it was too late. The brutal teeth had done their deadly damage to the red head’s body. They had severed Willow’s femoral artery. Blood sprayed from Willow’s mangled leg with each frantic beat of her heart, coating the broken floor boards with its bright red essence.
Before Buffy could react, a strained groan seemed to reverberate from below the creature, and then, with growing speed, the creature was sucked back into the Hellmouth. It still held Willow’s bleeding form in one of its mouths.
Buffy leaped after it, but she was too late. With seemingly impossible speed, the creature disappeared back from whence it came. The shattered floor boards magically mended themselves around its vanishing bulk. The last Buffy saw of her best friend was Willow’s terrified eyes, filled with the horrifying awareness of what was happening to her, as the floor sealed itself over her.
The song "Season's End" is by Kamelot.
Lost and Damned…
Don't ask why
Don't be sad
Sometimes we all must alter paths we planned
Leave me behind
Don't look back
Cause deep within you know I'm lost and damned…
Willow cried out as she watched the floorboards remake themselves, cutting her off from her friends - and most importantly - Buffy.
With a painful jerk on her shoulder, the creature pulled her down a long tunnel of rock that then faded into a blinding cloud of noxious fumes. The fumes seared her lungs to the point where her screams turned to faint gasps. Willow felt herself slipping away when the creature’s head carrying her broke through the cloud cover.
In the moment of clarity that comes to some with death, Willow saw what her final resting place looked.
Descending from the base of the cloud several hundred feet was a curtain of dark red energy. It shimmered and rippled like the Aurora borealis, with bolts of energy crackling within it. Willow was able to see the distant horizon through it, but the image was twisted and distorted, making for a stomach churning sight.
Looking down beyond where the energy curtain ended, she had an unobstructed view of the land far below. For as far as Willow could see, the ground was made of some shiny black substance; the blackness was broken by small mountains of dark and light stone, some of which were still active volcanoes.
Then there was the Hellmouth beast.
The creature’s three necks merged into a large, snake-like body, ringed with waving tentacles. Covering the body were heavily pitted scales. The creature’s body then disappeared into the large maw of a tube. The tube was made up of heavily scarred chitin and it stretched to merge with the rocky peak of a mountain that towered above the rest.
The creature looked like a hellish version of Riftia pachyptila, the giant tubeworms found in the deepest parts of the Pacific Ocean. Only this one was the size of a very tall and thin Empire State building.
The mountain and even the chitinous tube itself were swarming with all manner of demons, like a living carpet they climbed, making their way towards the top.
All of this was burned into Willow’s mind in her last moments of life. Then, as darkness began to settle over her, the head holding her gave a violent jerk. The echoing crack of her neck snapping was the sound that followed her into death.
It was a blessing that, in dying, Willow was spared the experience that followed.
The head holding her body, seeing the other two heads darting in to steal its prey, tried to keep the meal all to itself. One head roared in rage; the other took a more direct approach. Snapping at Willow’s mortal remains, it veered at the last second to bite deeply into its brethren’s neck.
Unfortunately for them, the bite caused the first head to release Willow’s body. Her corpse sailed in an arc away from the creature’s three heads and fell into the curtain of violent energy.
The Hellmouth wasn’t a simple hole between realities; it was a malignant wound in the dimensional barrier. That meant that space and time were distorted around the creature’s heads as it strained to break through...
As Willow’s body passed through the barrier, she came under an onslaught as terrific arcs of energy tore into her; they would have killed her instantly if she hadn’t already been dead. Some of the hellish energy was absorbed by her body when it struck her.
While her remains were tossed about like a leaf in a storm, the terribly long days and nights marched backwards before her lifeless eyes. When her body came out the other side, it was far into the hell dimension’s past.
In a loose-limbed tumble, Willow fell through the hellishly hot air. The heat from the sun immediately began to burn her pale flesh.
It was blind chance that none of the flying demonic denizens saw her to pluck her out of the air like a bat does to a moth.
The gravity there was greater than Earth’s, and her terminal velocity increased as well. During the violent passage through the energy curtain, most her clothing had been ripped off; the rest was torn free as she fell.
Willow’s fall ended near where the edge of a small mountain range broke the sparkling black surface. Upon impact, the dark material exploded in a shower of blackish powder. The material in the area she hit was thicker and denser than it normally was farther out, and it acted to cushion her arrival.
Barely.
When Willow struck, the top, lighter layer of powder mushroomed around her like a geyser, sending the lighter material high into the air where it drifted away in the wind. The denser silt that had settled over countless millennia molded itself around her remains, keeping them intact; though, it didn’t prevent bones from pulverizing, or flesh from rupturing.
Willow’s mortal remains lay unmoving in a crater that began to fill back in as the sparkling black dust started to slowly settle around her. As the dust trickled back into the hole, it covered and invaded her bloody wounds, staining some of the torn flesh with its dark color.
The merciless sun continued it onslaught upon her skin, causing it to blister and crack.
Then a spark, like a miniature lightning bolt, appeared to play along one of her numerous cuts. More soon followed. As the blueish/white and red-tinted bolts of energy danced across the torn and brutalized flesh, they left in their wake flesh that was whole once again.
At first, even as the sunburns healed, new ones would appear soon afterward. But slowly, the unknown energy overcame the sun’s deadly rays, and the fair skin became immune to its effects.
Though the terrible wounds on her shoulder and leg were healed, the shiny black material left its mark upon her skin. Each tooth mark, every tear made into her soft skin during her nightmarish ordeal became permanently tattooed. Oddly enough, the wounds visited on her corpse by the fall and impact was healed cleanly and unblemished.
While the flesh healed, the horrible internal damaged did not go overlooked. Under her pale skin light glowed as it went to work on repairing broken and shattered bones, muscles, and organs.
The silt muffled the sound of bones snapping back together as they were realigned by the unknown force. Finally, her head, which had been lying at a twisted angle, righted itself with a loud grinding of cartilage.
With a gasp, Willow opened her eyes.
At first, Willow’s vision swam; then, like a switch being thrown, everything came into startling focus. She found herself lying in a pool of harsh sunlight at the bottom of a shallow depression made of some sparkling black powder. When Willow weakly raised her left hand to shade eyes from the fierce light, Willow realized her shoulder and arm didn’t hurt.
Raising her head slightly (it felt oddly heavy), Willow looked in wonder at her shoulder and arm. She immediately noticed the blackened teeth marks marring her skin. Seeing the markings on her flesh brought the horrifying event back into her mind. With a whimper, Willow let her head drop back into the black dust as the nightmarish scenes played across her mind’s eye. Her memory had always been very good, but now it was brutally sharp and detailed. She remembered everything very clearly, especially the noise of her neck breaking.
Sitting up with a gasp and ignoring the small avalanche of silky dust she caused, Willow frantically felt for a heartbeat. Finding one, she let out a sigh of relief.
The relief turned to shock when she noticed her hand was holding a bare breast. Looking down, she stared in horror and embarrassment at her state of undress. She didn’t have an ounce of clothing on her. It was then that Willow saw more darkened markings showing through the dust coating her legs.
After rubbing the top half of her leg clean, Willow found it marred with similar black scarring like her shoulder and arm. It seemed to be made of the same shiny powder she was sitting in. Tentatively, Willow felt the markings with the tip of one finger. They felt slightly rougher than the surrounding skin. She flexed her leg muscles; there wasn’t any of the tightness she would’ve expected from the apparent scarring on its surface.
Then a flicker of light caught her attention. Slowly, ever so slowly, Willow looked up and, from where she sat, could see the top portion of the mountain where it melded with the Hellmouth creature’s carapace. It was still mind-bogglingly huge.
The malevolent cloud above the creature appeared as if it were constantly being poured from above. Like a continuous waterfall of vapor, it fell - only to flatten and spread out before quickly dissipating into the brutally clear sky.
From her vantage point, the curtain of red energy had the appearance of a giant crown of flickering lightning that surrounded the Hellmouth creature’s serpentine body and heads.
She started to stand up to get a better look when she felt a sudden impact and then pain in her lower back. With a shriek, she tumbled forward into the powdery material. Landing on all fours, Willow used one hand to reach back toward the source of the pain. Her fingers encountered something with a leathery texture to it; it wiggled and felt alive.
With a scream of pain and rage, she wrenched it from her back. Panting in mild shock, Willow brought her hand around to see what had attacked her.
It was about a foot long and looked like an elongated manta ray. Unlike the manta ray, however, this creature’s mouth - a circular maw of needle-like teeth - was at the forefront of its body. That body was very flexible; she found this out when, with a hiss, it twisted and sank its teeth into her arm.
With a cry of anger, Willow grabbed it around its head with her free hand. With a savage jerk, she ripped it from her flesh, leaving a circular wound of torn skin in its wake. Whipping her arm back and then forward, Willow threw the little beast away from her with all of her strength. Apparently that wasn’t much; the creature traveled only a short distance before hitting the dusty surface where it quickly disappeared.
Willow stopped breathing for a moment as she got a look at her surroundings. Before her, rising out of the black silt, were rocks, like the breakers that one would see along a shore line. They appeared to be made of the some dark gray stone.
But what really took her breath away was what lay beyond the breakers; it was a sea of sparkling black powder. There were even small swells, like waves, which flickered with reflective sunlight, ghosting across its surface. The sea stretched to the far horizon. Breaking its surface were islands, both large and small, of jagged stone. They rose above the sparkling black waves like mountaintops rising above the clouds. But dwarfing all of them was the mountain that was home for the Hellmouth creature.
On top of the shock, Willow also felt terribly stupid. She’d thrown that creature back into the sea of dust. It was like letting a piranha loose while standing in the water. Holding her bleeding arm, Willow frantically looked around her. She felt a surge of relief to see that behind her, the black powder ended upon the shores of a rocky peninsula that led to a small mountain.
With a cry of fear, Willow plowed her way through the waist high dust, stumbling from weakness and the shifting of the denser material under her bare feet.
Willow made it far enough that the powdery substance only reached mid-thigh when the creature struck again. It bit deeply into the back of her lower leg. Yelling in pain and terror, Willow tripped and fell into the blackish powder, causing it to billow up and over her. Choking and coughing, partially blinded by the silt in her eyes, Willow had managed to scramble to her knees when another creature slammed into her side, just above her hip bone.
Falling again, she rolled once and then, with one final surge of strength, Willow burst out of the powdery material and climbed to her feet. With the two creatures still embedded in her flesh, Willow made the remaining steps to the rocky surface. There she fell, writhing in agony. Ignoring the cuts that the stony surface gave her, Willow grabbed the creature attached to her side and yanked it off. She didn’t even have the strength to cry out from the pain.
After tossing the first creature away from her onto the stony ground, Willow used both hands to rip the second one from her leg. Once she had disposed of it in a similar manner as the first, Willow curled onto her side as the pain and horror caught up with her.
Sobbing weakly, Willow noticed light flickering through her closed eyelids. Opening them, she was shocked to see the blueish/white light coming from the wound on her arm. She watched memorized as the miniature bolts danced along her wound, healing it before her very eyes. Pushing herself into a sitting position, Willow looked down at her wounded side and witnessed the same thing happening there as well.
In a matter of seconds, her skin was unbroken; the only evidence of a wound was the rapidly drying blood that was already flaking off into the dry air.
A giggle escaped her parched lips then more followed. Breaking into full blown laughter touched with madness, Willow cruelly raked her fingernails down her newly healed arm. The welts that were raised vanished almost before she had finished.
Lurching to her feet, Willow scrabbled farther up the rocky terrain, all the while giggling and laughing with demented abandon. Spying what she was looking for, Willow dropped to her knees to pluck a serrated shard of stone from the ground. With a viscous jerk, she slashed the palm of her hand.
When, yet again, she spied the red and blueish/white lightning through the welling blood, Willow threw her head back and let loose peels of wild laughter.
For Willow had come to the terrifying conclusion that this wasn’t her physical body, it was her immortal soul - and she was trapped in hell.
The song “Lost and Damned” is by Kamelot.
Across The Highlands
For I am damned
if life itself is condemnation
I am immortal
and I can't discreet my destiny
bound to live eternally…
Willow held absolutely still as her prey moved slowly toward the bait. The bait was a small pool of her own blood held in a shallow crevice in the stony ground. She kept her face pressed against the stone surface; Willow didn’t need to see her prey to know its location. Soon after she began to feed on the demons, a slight tingle at the base of her skull began to alert her to their presence.
Now, after all this time, the tingle told her the location as well as the power of the demon. Willow had spotted it not too long ago and had lured it here using drops of her blood. Her prey was what she called a Jok; it walked on all fours (but could run very quickly on two) and had heavy scales on its head and shoulders. She vaguely remembered something similar from before her Fall; they tormented her. It gave her immense satisfaction every time one fell to her cunning.
The Jok had moved close enough that Willow could hear it sniffing the air, tracing the enticing aroma to its source. Willow slowed her heart, so its beat wouldn’t give her away to the prey’s acute hearing.
As the Jok moved closer, Willow’s mouth began to water slightly with anticipation of the meal. The last meal she had eaten had been just after sunrise, which was many sleeps ago. She once kept count of how many times she slept; it came to 243 sleeps in a day and an equal number in the night.
It was time.
In deathly silence, the onyx claws on her fingers and toes shimmered like liquid as they shortened themselves, releasing her from her perch on the underside of a rocky overhang.
She dropped.
To an outside observer it would appear that a section of stone, with the shape of a lithe feminine figure, its head topped by dead lichen, broke away from the rocky surface. But then the figure’s skin seemed to change colors, similar to a camouflaged octopus. The earthen tones faded into the normal color of pale flesh and the hair bled into its normal fiery red.
She tumbled to face her prey.
As her body twisted in mid air, the claws on one hand and both feet reformed into curved talons, perfect for grasping prey. The claws on her other hand formed into small stilettos. Willow shifted into her hunter face, the two small horns on her forehead growing slightly longer as her jaw elongated into a small muzzle as her fangs grew even larger.
She hit.
Her prey had bent over to lap up the blood before it dried completely. The thirty foot fall allowed Willow to slam into its back with enough force to ram its head into the rocky ground, stunning it for a few moments.
A few moments were all she needed.
The curved talons on her feet bit deeply into the Jok’s back, while the similarly curved talons on her one hand hooked themselves into the boney plating covering the head. Using the strength in her legs, Willow pushed the head forward; this allowed her to punch the needle-like claw from her middle finger into the soft tissue at the base of the creature’s skull. The claw was just long enough to reach the spinal cord, damaging it without killing the Jok.
She gracefully leaped clear as it bonelessly collapsed on its side.
Willow scurried forward and, with a slight grunt of satisfaction, flipped it onto its back even though it was twice her height and many times her weight.
What Willow saw made her yip with pleasure; the Jok was heavy with eggs! Leaping upon the distended stomach, she crouched to scan the surrounding terrain. Willow used all of her senses: eyes, ears, tingle, smell… She slipped one slim leg down to bury her claws into the stony ground, and, for a moment, she held perfectly still. Not sensing any vibrations nearby, she began to feed. Slashing diagonally, Willow opened up the prey’s underbelly. Her feet and lower legs were immediately covered with eggs in their slimy coating.
She quickly shoved one in her mouth, the soft shell being no hindrance to her sharp teeth. She was soon enjoying the wonderful taste of the nutrient-rich yoke and the crunchy hatchling attached to it.
Even as she ate the egg, she wasn’t idle. To one side of the still-living prey, she scooped out the eggs. The other side, the inedible lower organs. Hearing the prey’s heartbeat beginning to fade, she quickly dove into the open cavity where she commenced to worm her way under the large, bony ribcage. Willow ignored the warm and sticky fluids coating her as she made her way toward the failing heart.
Her hands encountered the thumping muscle, and, with deft movements learned from countess other hunts, she pinched and then sliced. Wiggling back out, she emerged with the prey’s large heart cradled in both of her hands, her strong fingers pinching the arteries tightly closed to keep the precious essence inside.
Not bothering to leave her macabre nest, she released the pressure on one of the four arteries and drank it. As she drank from the grisly container, her dark red hair began to flutter around her head, blown by an unseen wind. All the while, small bright red arcs of energy leaped from the heart to Willow, sinking into her flesh. The slitted pupils in her brilliant green eyes dilated as they glowed the same reddish hue.
But all too quickly, the ghoulish nectar was gone, and no matter how hard Willow palpitated the organ, it gave no more essence to her greedy lips. With a quiet sigh of regret, Willow punched through the carcass side with one foot. Once again her claws sank into the stony surface. Feeling more secure, Willow began to gorge herself, finishing the heart before moving on to eat other choice parts.
Even though Willow’s powerful and sharp teeth allowed her to easily slice through the tough muscles and tendons as she fed, they weren’t strong enough to break the large bones that held the juicy marrow. For that, she had to rely on a heavy stone and the strength of her arms.
While she ate, Willow thought back to her first lesson in what one should eat first from a kill. She called the creature that taught her the terrible lesson Nibbles.
It happened not long after her Fall. She had been searching for food and shelter. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and a part of the ground seemed to leap up at her. Without making a sound, the small humanoid figure tackled her to the ground; though it was half her size, it was both heavy and very strong. It looked like a cross between a demonic chimp and a gnome.
She stared dazedly as it straddled her hips, while its skin turned from the color of the surrounding stone to a darker red. It raised one clawed hand, and Willow was memorized as the black claws seemed to melt and reform into wider-bladed talons. Then it simply punched deeply into her abdomen, just below her ribs. Willow shrieked, and then her screams were cut off as the creature pushed its arm under her ribs. She involuntary let out a long moan as the air was forced out of her lungs.
She felt a terrible pressure around her heart just before the creature ripped her heart out of her chest. Willow’s last sight was of the creature drinking from her heart like a macabre baby bottle.
With a gasp, Willow came back to life to find her body high up a cliff, wedged in a crevice partially buried with stones. She was barely able to uncover herself. Willow was horrified to see that her body had gotten drastically thinner, and she felt horribly weak.
Hearing a noise from outside of the crevice, Willow weakly dragged herself over to look out. Below her was the creature, climbing up the cliff toward her. She could see that its stomach was distended from feeding on her. She gave a little giggle at the thought that her damnation was being nibbled to death over and over again.
Still giggling, Willow moved the largest rock she could near the edge; there, she braced her legs against the narrow walls of the crevice and pushed. With a loud crunch, the rock struck the creature on one shoulder, knocking it from the cliff wall. With a cry of pain, it fell to the rocky surface far below. Willow easily heard the crack when its lower back struck a small boulder. The creature lay spread-eagled on the boulder with its bulging stomach pointed at her, mewing in pain.
Softly giggling while mumbling, “Nibble, nibble,” under her breath, Willow slid over the crevice’s edge and let herself fall in a loose-limbed tumble. Her legs struck first, shattering on impact; her head struck hard enough that she blacked out for a moment. When she regained consciousness, Willow saw that the creature had rolled off the boulder and was in the process of dragging itself away with its good arm. Its legs were useless, and it left a trail of blood from a terrible wound on its back - there were actual bone fragments sticking out of the wound.
With her own legs not yet healed, Willow gave chase by dragging herself along the stony ground after it. Ignoring the sandpaper effect of the ground on her tender flesh, Willow slowly caught up to the beast. Willow was slowed at times due to her thirst and hunger. She stopped periodically to lick the blood off the stones, assuaging her needs.
Slowly, ever so slowly, they made their way across the rough terrain at a snail’s pace, but Willow gained ground, softly chanting, “Nibble… nibble,” in a voice without reason. An inch at a time, she drew closer; the creature became the center of her world. Just before reaching it, she saw a small, sharp-edged rock in her path. Without stopping, she picked it up with her mouth, ignoring the cuts it gave her lips and tongue.
Finally, its feet were within reach. Using her weak (but now functional) legs, Willow half crawled, half lunged at it. She landed on its legs, literally causing it the come to a screeching halt. It started flailing its good arm at her but couldn’t quite reach her. Its violent movements caused fresh blood to well up out of the wound on its back.
The next thing Willow knew, her face was buried in the hot, fresh blood. She ruthlessly drank the viscous liquid, feeling the horrible thirst being sated for the first time since arriving.
After a while, its movements slowed along with the blood flow. Willow lifted herself up off the creature. It still bled slightly so she knew its heart still beat. Finding the sharp rock that she had dropped in her eagerness to drink, Willow raised the stone blade. Her face, neck and breasts were covered in blood - hers and the creature’s. Seeing the creature had its head turned partially toward her, Willow looked into its one visible eye and said in a demented voice, “Nibble… nibble.”
“Across The Highlands” is by Kamelot.
My Little Phoenix…
Eternity is set in her eyes
Throwing sparks back at the world
That'll never die
And I think: "She was robbed of her innocence
Had no more time to play
She's only a little girl
But she's stronger than the flames"
After Willow had eaten her fill of the Jok, she made her way home. Before leaving, though, she made a simple sack by cutting a large square slice of the hide with her sharp claws. After piling the remaining eggs and one of the Jok’s arms on it, she folded up the corners. Crude but effective; the hide would last long enough to get her prizes home. She also cut the head off using her sharp claws. Since it was too big to fit in the bag, Willow would have to carry it in one hand. She didn’t know why, but she had an urge to take her preys’ heads, so she did.
Moving cautiously throughout her trek, wary of attack, Willow finally reached the small valley that she called home. To enter the valley, one first had to pass through a narrow tunnel that made its way through the side of a cliff. The tunnel widened into an oval valley surrounded by high walls. It was several hundred strides long and about half that wide. The opening to the cave where Willow lived and also stored her trophies rested at the opposite end of the valley.
What made the valley so special to her were its other residents. They looked like nightmarish versions of what she would have called centipedes before the Fall. The valley floor was home to a hive that now numbered in the thousands. When she first stumbled upon the valley, there were only a few hundred, and they had swarmed her. For some reason, Willow could barely sense them with her tingle, and she hadn’t known they were coming. Their bite had caused her soft flesh to bubble and melt, and the centipedes had eagerly gobbled it up.
Then while she laid there dying, her sparks came into play. Her fleshed healed over quite a few of the centipedes that had burrowed their way into her. At first, she could feel them thrashing around, but her skin lit up from within as her sparks seemed to attack them. After a while, the others left her alone, and now she moved freely among them, unharmed.
On entering the tunnel, the stony surface changed into a soft mixture of loose gravel and sand. The centipedes liked to burrow through the loose material; though, they could move very fast on top of the ground, they rarely climbed vertical surfaces.
By the time Willow exited the tunnel into the valley proper, centipedes covered her body. She slid a clear membrane over her eyes; it was hard enough to protect her eyes from their clawed feet. The third eyelid had developed around the time her claws had. It also served as protection during the Silt storms that sometimes blew off of the Sea of Silt - her name for the sea of shiny black material.
Halfway across the valley floor, she dropped the Jok’s head. The centipedes were already devouring any soft tissue from it, and, in a couple of sleeps, it would be ready to go into her cave. She then dropped the hide to the ground, spilling its contents. The centipedes went crazy over the eggs. Picking up the arm (and its munching passengers) once again, Willow headed toward her cave. She also grabbed a couple of eggs to munch on.
As Willow made her way across the valley, the centipedes crawled all over her, cleaning the dried blood and fluids off her. She even opened her mouth letting the smaller ones - the centipedes ranged in size from a single finger joint to the length of her foot - in to clean her teeth.
At the entrance to her cave, she once again dropped the arm; she knew the centipedes would eat everything except the larger bones. Those she would take for herself; Willow found gnawing soothing.
Entering her cave, she was greeted by the hollow-eye stare of hundreds of skulls that lined the floor and walls. They ranged in size and shape. Some were in stacks against the walls in piles reaching above her head. As she walked deeper into her cave, Willow would glance at a skull and remember how she had hunted and killed it.
Soon, Willow left the sunlight behind and entered the deepest part of her home. Here no light from the harsh sun reached, the darkness was absolute, yet still Willow could see quite well. As she traveled farther away from the light, the colors bled from her eyesight until all she saw was black and white.
At the very back of the cave a waist high rocky shelf rose out of the floor. Surrounding it were the skulls of her very first kills. The shelf’s top was slightly concave and made it a perfect spot to hold her bedding. Willow had filled the hollow with the softest silt she could find after a storm. Giving a long, drawn out yawn, Willow climbed into her bed and lay down to sleep.
Stretching out in the soft silt, Willow sunk the claws at the end of her fingers into the stone that made up her bed. Even with the hive out front, she never let her guard down completely.
She slept.
Many Sleeps later…
Willow was hungry. She sat in the entrance of her cave gnawing on the Jok’s arm bone while she burned with anger at the stupid Hellmouth creature. Since her Fall, Willow had twice witnessed the Hellmouth creature’s crown of red energy explode in a ring of light that would travel outward to the distant horizon.
Soon afterward, the numerous islands that surrounded the Hellmouth creature’s abode would slowly be overrun with demons of all sizes and types.
They were able to make their way to the islands via natural land bridges that existed just under the Sea of Silt. Each island was connected to its closest neighbors this way. Willow had first discovered them when the Silt had inexplicitly lowered to reveal them. Later, she learned that there existed a large moon that showed itself five times each day and night. It controlled the Sea of Silt’s tides.
Using the land bridges, one could make their way from the far horizon to the Hellmouth creature’s large island. Even at high tide, Willow would be able to wade across them if not for the Mantas and Nemos that lived in the black material. Low tide didn’t completely protect one crossing the land bridge from the Nemos; their longs tentacles could, at times, reach across the entire width of the bridge.
Oddly enough, the demons would gather peacefully, just sitting in eerily quiet groups and staring up at the Hellmouth creature. Then the energy ring would flare like a beacon before suddenly going very dim. That signaled the demons to climb the mountain and then the very Hellmouth creature itself.
Both times, before they had reached the top, the energy ring flared back into its normal brilliance for several long moments and then dimmed once again. After that happened whatever had kept the peace disappeared and an orgy of death soon followed. The demons turned on one another with such savagery that some would tumble into the Sea of Silt or fall from the Hellmouth creature’s carapace to their deaths still locked together in mortal combat.
The islands would quickly become covered in blood and bodies, both dead and wounded. It was then that Willow learned the Hellmouth creature’s true size, for at the height of the killings something terrifying happened. Large crevices opened up in the stone that made up the large island. Nightmarish tentacles covered in barbs and jagged-tooth suction cups issued forth from them. The whole island mountain would become a waving mass of death.
As the tentacles pulled in their prey, streams of reddish light crept up the tubular body of the Hellmouth beast. The glowing strands reminded Willow of blood vessels but were filled with actual demon essence, rather than blood. Once they reached the top of the chitinous tube, the energy exploded into giant arcs of red lightning that the ring of energy absorbed in order to recharge and regain its former brilliance.
Every time the Hellmouth had sent out its call, Willow would be almost knocked unconscious when the energy wave passed over. Her head felt like it would explode from the massive tingle she felt. The first time it had happened, Willow hid herself while the island she was on filled with demons. The second time, Willow felt a slight draw toward the Hellmouth but easily fought the compulsion. She ended up preying on the docile demons - though she learned once attacked they reverted to their normal behavior.
This time (the third time for her) she again felt compelled to journey to the Hellmouth, but she was able to ignore it. Now, though, she felt a pleasant lassitude; she just couldn’t bring herself to hunt. So she sat in her empty valley. The centipedes had left; though, the immobile queen remained buried under the sandy soil. Willow could just sense her in the center of the valley.
Gnawing on her bone, Willow enjoyed the peace and quiet; she didn’t even have any of her claws buried in the stone. It was rather nice to relax for a change.
Several sleeps later while Willow was out hunting, she felt a different kind of call, and then she disappeared in a pillar of light.
Sunnydale Library a week into spring break, near midnight…
“You sure this is the spot?” Andrew Wells asked nervously as he set out the spell components.
“For the hundredth time…YES!” Warren Mears snapped back, looking up from drawing the magic circle. He was growing very tired of Andrew’s constant whining. “Now shut up and finish getting the rest of the stuff ready.”
Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Warren finished using the beam compass to draw a perfect chalk circle on the library’s floor. He then lengthened the compass enough to allow him to draw a second circle a few inches beyond the first. He did remember to leave a small opening in each, allowing them to pass back and forth over the circle until they were ready for the summoning.
Once finished, he and Andrew went around the circle drawing glyphs in the space between the outer and inner circles. They each had a paper with notes on it to copy from. When they had checked each other’s work, Warren turned to Andrew and said, “Ok, now give me the heart.”
Andrew picked up the bag that had a tag on it that read, “Succubus Heart”, but before handing it to Warren, he asked in a nervous voice, “Are you sure this is the right spot?”
“YES,” Warren growled out as he snatched the bag from Andrew’s sweaty hand. “After the number of times I explained to you how I was able to triangulate the mystical convergences, I’m beginning to think you don’t trust me.”
In actuality, Warren had overheard the librarian talking with the hot computer teacher about something called the Hellmouth. After listening for a while, Warren figured out its location. He then did a little research and learned that it was a gateway to Hell. Remembering Andrew telling him that his older brother had an actual Succubus heart, well… it was a simple matter to find a summoning spell online.
Warren opened the cloth bag and dumped its contents in the center of the circle; to him it looked like a heart made out of beef jerky. With a shrug, he turned to Andrew and said in a suggestive tone, “Just think, when this works we are going to have a demon babe that will do anything we want. She’s a freaking sex demon; Hell, her name evens implies it.” Seeing Andrew’s incomprehension, Warren let out a sigh of exasperation.
Reaching out to grab Andrew by one scrawny shoulder, Warren gave him a slight shake as he clarified his remark. “Succubus… suck-it-bitch.”
Seeing Andrew’s eyes light up with understanding, Warren gave his shoulder a pat and then reached down to grab Andrew by the wrist. “Now it’s time for your part.”
“Why can’t we use someone else’s virgin blood?” Andrew whimpered on seeing the small knife that Warren was now brandishing. He had quietly pulled it out of his back pocket.
Squeezing Andrew’s wrist cruelly, Warren said in a harsh voice, “Because the spell requires freshly spilled virgin blood, and since I’m not a virgin…” He gave Andrew a smirk. “…and you are, you’re elected.”
After slicing a shallow gash across a couple of fingers, Warren ordered a softly crying Andrew to rub the blood onto the heart.
Andrew shook so much he also splattered blood onto the wooden floorboards, where some of it slowly sank into the seams.
Pulling Andrew back outside of the circle with him, Warren made sure the glyphs and circle remained undamaged. Once satisfied, Warren used a piece of chalk to close the magical circle.
Stepping back, he grabbed several pieces of paper from where Andrew had set them. Warren then began to read out loud from them. As he chanted the Latin words, nothing appeared to happen at first - aside from the chalk softly glowing. Beginning to really get angry, Warren concentrated even more, letting his anger fuel his voice.
He almost faltered when the chalk lines flared with a light that went from white to blood red. Then, for some unknown reason, he saw the red light bleed first into the wooden floor seams inside the circle itself. After outlining the floor boards, the light traced out invisible cracks in the boards themselves.
Unknown to the two of them, when the floorboards had repaired themselves, Willow’s blood had become trapped in the seams and the wood. The spell they were casting used the heart as a link to a like demon. The heart was a dried up pig’s heart. So Andrews’s virgin blood was wasted on it.
But it wasn’t wasted on Willow’s blood locked within the wooden floor.
Like called to like, and with the dimensional barriers still weakened from the Hellmouth’s partial opening, well… the summoning was a success. It just was not what they expected.
Inside the circle, the blood red light suddenly flared and then exploded upward into a pillar of blinding light. Both Warren and Andrew had to cover their eyes against it. Warren stopped chanting to throw himself back; the light had punched through the skylight above them causing a rain of sharp glass shards to fall upon them.
Once the light faded, the two young men found themselves looking at a very naked female form. The demoness had her head lowered, hiding her face behind a veil of red hair. Through the hair peaked a set of ivory horns. The boy’s didn’t care; they were too busy feasting their hormonally-charged eyes on the naked form to notice.
Though dirty, the demoness was a thing of beauty; taut muscles moved under pale skin. Round and firm breasts jutted forth, their rosy nipples swaying enticingly before them with each gasping breath. Aside from the hair on her head, she seemed devoid of any other body hair. The young men found it to their liking; nothing was hidden from their hungry gaze.
Then, remembering the last part of the spell, Warren turned to the last paged and quickly rattled off the binding spell. In his haste, he never noticed there weren’t any visible effects like there had been from his chanting.
Finishing the spell, Warren lowered the paper with a triumphant smile on his face.
“So she’s…?” Andrew hesitantly began to ask.
Not taking his eyes off the naked demoness, Warren answered, “Yep, she’s bound to m… to us ,and will do anything we can dream up.”
“Anything?” whispered an awed Andrew; his eyes remained locked on the heaving breasts.
Shooting Andrew a twisted smirk and seeing what his gaze was focused on, Warren said, “Just watch.”
Without a further ado, Warren stepped forward, inadvertently blocking Andrew’s sight of the demoness. Riding the rush from the spell casting and being painfully aroused, Warren reached quickly for one of the demoness’ swaying breasts with the intent of giving the nipple a cruel pinch and twist.
He never made it.
After the pillar of light had faded, Willow was stunned to find herself in the place of her dreams. She just stood there in a stupor as she tried to comprehend what had happened and how she had ended up in this place that filled both her dreams and nightmares. Willow was jerked out of her stupor when she saw a hand thrusting at her heart.
She reacted as all of those countless years trapped in Hell had taught her.
Andrew stumbled back with a shocked cry as he was blinded by a spray of thick, warm liquid. Wiping his eyes clear, he discovered his hands were covered in blood. Feeling his stomach clench in mounting horror, he looked up at where Warren stood. For a moment, his mind couldn’t - or wouldn’t - accept what he saw.
At first, he thought Warren had somehow grown a third arm out of his back, but then he truly saw the horror of the scene.
The female demoness had rammed her hand clear through Warren’s chest, and clutched in her black clawed fingers was Warren’s still quivering heart. Then, with a slight sucking noise, she pulled her hand out, letting Warren’s lifeless body fall to the floor with a load thump. When Andrew met the green eyes with their red glowing, slitted pupils, he did the only thing he could do. He fainted while staining the front of his pants with urine.
Willow jerked in surprise as the weak male dropped to the ground, and her nose winkled at the acrid sent of urine reached her. Even as she snorted in disgust, she felt a wave of apprehension, as if she had done something wrong. Willow shook her head to banish the distracting feeling, and, after sniffing the warm heart in her hand, she promptly dropped it on the unconscious male. The heart didn’t smell at all good to her.
Willow made her way quickly but quietly out of the library. If this room from her dreams actually existed, then maybe the people that she dreamt about did, too - especially the golden-haired angel.
The song, “My Little Phoenix”, is by Tarja Turunen.
Hold On…
Don't you recall what you felt
When you weren't alone
Someone who stood by your side
A face you have known
Where do you run when it's too much to bear
Who do you turn to in need
When nobody's there…
On bare feet, Willow silently made her way through the school’s quiet corridors. She trailed her fingertips along the cement block wall, grounding herself, as memories that had faded with time played themselves before her mind’s eye.
She could almost see the people filling the corridors; though, aside from a few, they were faceless to her. The noise of a multitude of moving bodies and the low murmur of their voices seemed to echo hollowly in her ears.
Then a familiar sound intruded - thunder. Between the volcanic eruptions and the great silt storms, Willow was very familiar with thunder and lightning. But this time, the whisper from a distant memory teased her with something she had only dreamt about.
In a burst of blinding speed, Willow took off down the corridor. Letting the long faded memories guide her, Willow made her way quickly and quietly to the nearest locked doors that led to the outside. To a body that had been tempered by the rigors of Hell, the heavy wooden doors offered very little resistance.
Once outside, Willow came to an abrupt halt as she threw her head back and breathed deeply through her nose and open mouth. She could both smell and taste the exotic scents and flavors in the air. It was something from her dreams, something she had never in all her time in Hell come across.
It was water.
Its cool embrace caressed her bare skin like a long lost lover, making Willow moan in pleasure.
A rain drop hit her in the middle of the forehead between her horns. She blinked in surprise and, with wonderment shining on her face, Willow reached up with one finger and gathered up the minute trace of liquid from her forehead. Slowly, she brought the finger down to eye level and stared in awe at its precious cargo.
In the street lights, the small bead of water glowed with a liquid brilliance.
Then, with infinite care, Willow closed her lips over the finger and the drop of water on it. The purity of the liquid essence was astounding; it literally caused Willow to fall to her knees in ecstasy. No matter how much demonic blood Willow had drunk, her thirst was never fully quenched. Her body, with its human origins, always had a fierce craving for water.
In an instant, the drop was gone, absorbed by the parched tissues of her mouth. Willow let out a frustrated growl as she pulled her finger out of her mouth; she wanted more! Being able to smell water all around her but unable to drink it drove Willow into a rage.
Throwing her head back once again, Willow let her hunter face come forth as she raised her arms to the sky. With the claws on the ends of her fingers flowing into wickedly curved talons, Willow howled out her frustration and rage at the clouds above her.
The clouds answered.
With a brilliant flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, the clouds released their hold on the water within them. Willow froze as the rain beat down upon her upturned face, cleaning her naked flesh of blood and dirt. With her hair plastered to her skull, Willow held her head back as her hunter face melted away; opening her mouth to its fullest, she captured as many drops of rain as possible.
It was divine.
The flashing lights and sirens from the approaching fire trucks shocked her out of her rapture. Jerking up in surprise and fear, Willow turned and, like a wraith, disappeared into the night, the falling rain masking any sound she might have made.
Later…
As Willow ran, her mind was in a state of confusion. Everything seemed new and yet familiar at the same time; names would come to her for things she saw: house, car, and street. But their names gave her very little in understanding, and she felt strongly that she should know. It was very frustrating.
Then there were the smells, which were almost overwhelming. In Hell, a caustic staleness permeated everything, the air and even the very blood and meat of her prey. But here, the aromas were rich and exhilarating, full of moisture and life.
Once she had run far enough, Willow found a gurgling stream of water running down the street. Dropping flat onto her stomach, Willow eagerly drank from the running water. When she was sated, Willow moved into the yard in front of a darkened house. There, she buried her toes in the moist soil as she ran her fingers through the wet grass. The only plants in Hell were very dry and desiccated lichen that grew sparsely.
Willow stuffed several handfuls of the soft sweet grass in her mouth and, after first sucking the moisture from the blades, chewed it with gusto. The taste was exquisite.
Willow stared with interest at the house; the house teased her senses with its familiarity. Swallowing the last of the grass, Willow got up and slowly approached the silent house. She moved up to a window. Pressing her face against the glass, Willow gazed inside.
Emptiness greeted her eyes. Like a ghostly afterimage, Willow could see furniture in the empty room. She then made her way to the front door. After running her fingers across the wood and small windows, Willow grasped the door knob. It was locked. Letting out a low growl of frustration, Willow laid her hand flat on the door’s surface, just above the door knob. With a slight push accompanied by the sound of wood splintering, Willow forced the door open.
Letting the door swing open on its hinges, Willow took a step inside. When her bare feet touched the hallway carpet, Willow stopped to look down. She was standing in a square depression; furrowing her brow in concentration, Willow slowly wiped the bottom of her wet feet within the depression.
She moved deeper into the silent structure, ghosting from empty room to empty room. The water slowly dripping from her soaked body and plastered hair left a trail of wetness, marking her passage. All the while, dim memories would fill the room with furniture and people. Again, the meaning behind the images eluded her, like silt slipping through her fingers. She didn’t like that feeling one bit.
One room in particular called to her. It was on the second floor and had two doors that opened out onto a balcony. She wandered the empty room seeing a bed and dressers that wasn’t there anymore. At one point, Willow paused to spread her fingers over an imaginary surface, and, with her head tilted in puzzlement, she watched her fingers tap the air, following a very old instinct.
Every once in a while, Willow would stop and crouch on all fours. She then sank the claws from her fingers and toes into the wood underneath the carpet, feeling for the slightest vibration. Aside from the rain falling on the roof, though, the house was empty.
Enticing smells from the kitchen called to her, but, again, it was empty. As she breathed deeply of the wonderful aromas, her hunter face came out. Dropping back to the floor, Willow crawled along, sniffing the enticing scents from countess meals and spills embedded in the kitchen carpet.
Then, a whiff of something more substantial teased her senses. Following the scent, she climbed onto the countertop and opened a cabinet door to find the prize.
In the back of the cabinet, a small box had fallen over and had been subsequently missed. With trembling hands, Willow pulled the box out and gazed at it as a memory of boiling water played itself through her mind.
Not leaving her perch on the countertop (though she did sink her toe claws into the hard surface), Willow slit open the box’s top with a finger claw.
Her mouth watering from the smells coming from the box, Willow peered inside to find many small, hard tubes. Ignoring the distracting images they called up, Willow picked one up and promptly stuffed it in her mouth.
Biting into the crunchy tube, Willow moaned as flavors exploded across her tongue. Soon, loud crunching could be heard as she scooped more out to shovel into her mouth. When the box was empty, Willow tore the thin cardboard apart, allowing her to lick the residue off of the inside.
Dropping the shredded remains to the floor, Willow turned her attention to the paper packet that was also in the box. Picking it up, she once again used a sharp finger claw to open it and reveal a yellow powder. She almost dropped off the countertop in shock as the fragrance from the powder hit her. With complete abandon, Willow upended the packet into her open mouth.
That was a mistake.
Coughing and gagging from the cloying substance that coated her mouth, Willow tumbled from her perch to land ungracefully on the floor. Willow found herself covered in the yellow powder from her knees to chest.
Still clasping the partially-full packet, Willow smashed her way through the back door. Spying a puddle in the middle of the small patio, she dropped down besides it to drink, cleaning the cloying substance from her mouth. It also allowed her to enjoy the powder’s taste.
It tasted like ambrosia.
Once her mouth was clear, Willow sat back on her haunches and started to use her free hand to wipe the now damp residue off her skin. Willow licked her hand clean after every wipe; she didn’t want to waste any of the precious substance. Once her skin was clean, Willow turned her attention back to finishing what was left in the packet. Remaining in the rain, Willow licked the powder from the packet with her long tongue. When her mouth became gummed up, she would simply lean over to drink from the puddle. When the packet was empty, Willow dropped it on the ground.
Without a backward glance, she left, the empty house behind her a hollow monument of the past.
She moved through the darkened city, sticking to the shadows. Every once in a while, as Willow moved through the night, she vaguely sensed the presence of a demon or two, but she chose to ignore them. She followed a winding path that eventually led her to a rundown home, from which the sour smell of alcohol emanated.
Looking through a window, Willow saw a bedroom devoid of life. From all of her past hunts, Willow recognized that the room had been abandoned, but not for terribly long. With a sigh of regret, she turned away and left. She had wanted to meet the laughing one with the warm brown eyes.
Again, she ghosted her way through the wet night and found an abandoned home with its furniture covered with cloth. The Wise One was not there.
Reluctantly, Willow made her way to the home of her Golden Haired Angel. Even though she wanted her, had dreamt of her over the years, she was afraid. For all that she has forgotten, there was one thing that burned brightly in her mind. A name, a title… Slayer.
A part of her remembered that she once wasn’t damned. Now she was, though, and the Slayer killed the damned.
She quietly circled the house several times, each time moving in closer. Her senses vibrating with anxiety and dread, Willow slowly made her way up to the front of the house.
With a silent leap, Willow landed on the porch roof and from there made her way to the Slayer’s bedroom window. Willow let out a whine of despair on seeing the same signs of abandonment. Things were missing that, deep inside Willow, told her the person had gone away.
Growing her claws out slightly, Willow used them to pry open the window since it was unlocked. Once inside, Willow could only hear the sound of one heartbeat in the house. Then her senses were overwhelmed by the smells and the memories they evoked. Willow let out a whimper as she was bombarded with fragments of a distant past.
Beautiful hazel eyes looking into hers, running a comb through blonde hair, and sitting close together in bed while eating ice cream.
And a terrible yearning for soft caresses and tender lips.
Willow weakly crawled into the center of the bed. She sat down and wrapped herself with a blanket. Surrounded with the Slayer’s scent and the almost physical presences that lingered in the room, a name bubbled up from the depths of her mind.
Buffy.
With only animalistic sounds having passed her lips in an untold number of years, the name surprisingly flowed smoothly off her tongue, “Buffy.”
With her eyes staring sightlessly ahead, Willow rocked her body back and forth on the bed, the blanket clutched securely around her. All the while, in a low, keening voice, she chanted, “Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…”
The bedroom light flaring to life above Willow startled her into a quiet stillness. That made it easy for her to hear Mrs. Summers’ shocked voice. “Willow?!”
The song “Hold On” is by Kansas
Silent Lucidity
I- will be watching over you
I- am gonna help you see it
through
I- will protect you in the night
I- am smiling next to you, in Silent Lucidity…
Seeing Willow sitting in Buffy's bed brought back the last several weeks' horrible events to Joyce. The call from the hospital about Buffy being hurt. Then, on arriving, she heard the terrible news about Willow’s death by some wild animals. The looks of absolute devastation on both Buffy’s and Xander’s faces. Even the librarian, Mr. Giles, was there, refusing treatment until the two young adults were looked after first. He, too, bore a look of shock and heart ache.
Joyce had allowed Xander to spend the night; he and Buffy had ended up falling asleep on the couch. In the morning, Buffy had awakened the house screaming Willow’s name. It was then that Joyce found out that Willow had still been alive when she was taken away by the wild animals. Buffy felt if she had been a little faster, a little stronger, maybe Willow would still be here. Joyce tried to comfort her the best that she could.
In the days that followed, Buffy and Xander were almost inseparable; they would sit in her bedroom and quietly talk about Willow. At times, one or both of them would break down into tears. On several occasions, Mr. Giles had stopped by and would spend some time with the two grieving teenagers. Joyce didn’t quite know what to make of it, but she could see how much it meant to both Buffy and Xander. From the few things she overheard, it sounded like the teens had gotten to know the librarian from doing a lot of studying in the school’s library.
On the day of Willow’s funeral, Joyce had walked into Buffy’s bedroom to find both her daughter and Xander going through a large pile of Willow’s personal belongings.
It seemed that it was stuff that had been left either at the library or the Summers household. When Joyce had remarked about giving the stuff to her parents, Buffy - and especially Xander - were against the idea. It led to a screaming match that finally ended with Joyce putting Willow’s things in a box and taking it out to the car. She hated doing it, but Willow’s own parents would want their daughter’s things returned. God knew Joyce would, if she ever lost Buffy.
Joyce learned that she was mistaken about Willow’s parents. Throughout the funeral, they both looked upset and agitated, but not devastated the way Joyce had imagined they would. About halfway through the funeral, she got her answer.
Willow’s father checked his watch for what seemed to be the hundredth time, got up, and approached the Rabbi, interrupting the sermon. What followed was a low-voice argument that ended when Willow’s father threw his hands up in frustration and left the services, his wife scurrying behind him. Both of them stared straight ahead, avoiding the pointed looks of disgust from the mourners that had packed the Synagogue. The Rabbi had remarked, his voice shaking with anger, that Sitting Shiva would be held by Willow’s aunt who lived out of state. Her parents had a prior engagement and would not be around to accept condolences.
After the funeral, Joyce had quietly apologized to Buffy and Xander as she returned Willow’s belongings to them. Later, when she saw that a fish tank had made its home in the living room, she said not a word.
Joyce was actually glad when her ex-husband Hank offered to take Buffy on a European cruise; Joyce believed the best thing for her daughter was to get away from here. Joyce learned from Buffy that Xander was working on a cattle ranch with his Uncle Rory during the summer, and that Mr. Giles had returned to England to visit friends and family.
All of this flashed through Joyce’s mind after she spoke Willow’s name then she found herself moving across the bedroom to the miraculously alive teen. Willow had ducked her head down when Joyce cried out her name. The blanket completely covered Willow’s body from the neck down, but it was easy for Joyce to recognize the red head’s profile.
Once Joyce was kneeling on the bed, she gently gathered Willow to her chest, mindful of any injuries the poor girl may still be suffering. Ignoring the wetness soaking through her nightgown from where the side of Willow’s head touched her, Joyce began cooing softly to the now trembling teen.
“Oh, honey, it’s OK now; you’re safe…” Joyce kept repeating the soothing litany as she ran her fingers through read head’s wet hair. It worried her that Willow felt very warm. She obviously had a fever. The poor girl also smelled. Joyce couldn’t imagine what she must have gone through after the attack.
Joyce had just decided to get up and call 911 when her wrist brushed against something both hard and sharp on Willow’s forehead. Pulling her hand back quickly in surprise, Joyce saw she had a slight cut on her wrist that was already beading with blood. She felt Willow suddenly go still as she began sniffing the air.
Then, before Joyce could react, Willow’s hand shot out from under the blanket to tightly grasp her arm just above the cut.
Joyce instinctively tried to pull her hand back and was astonished to find that she couldn’t. Willow’s grip kept her arm completely immobilized.
She then noticed Willow’s finger nails; it looked like someone had glued short, glittering black claws over each one. Trying to fight down her rising fear, Joyce said in a firm voice, “Willow, let go of my arm.”
The only response was a strange, slithering noise from the red head’s face, still hidden by her damp hair.
Feeling Willow’s breath on her bleeding wrist as she effortlessly pulled Joyce’s arm toward her mouth, Joyce began to panic. When she felt Willow licking the cut, Joyce grabbed Willow’s damp hair with her free hand and pulled on it with all her strength.
At first there was no reaction.
To Joyce, it felt as if Willow was made of stone. Growing frantic, Joyce shouted, “Willow, let GO!”
With a suddenness that took Joyce by surprise, Willow let go of her arm.
She also relaxed her neck muscles.
Joyce, still pulling on her hair at the same moment, yanked Willow’s head to back fully, revealing her face for the first time.
It was a face of a monster, and it was real.
Joyce screamed.
Even as she threw herself from the bed, Willow’s blanket-covered form exploded from its confinement. Joyce only got a glimpse of naked flesh and black markings as she scrabbled backward across the floor. Joyce backed into the bedrooms wall hard, striking her head with enough force to make her see stars. When her vision cleared, she saw the room was empty.
Aside from the open window letting in the sound of rain and the messed up bed, everything appeared normal.
Once her pulse stopped thundering in her ears, Joyce forced herself to stand up using the wall as support. It was then she heard the sound of forlorn whimpering. It came from the far corner, though she couldn’t actually see Willow. Joyce was torn between wanting to flee the room and the motherly instincts that Willow’s whimpering stirred.
Her instincts won.
At first, Joyce couldn’t see Willow at all; then she noticed the black markings seemingly hanging in midair in the shadows. Joyce had to blink several times to finally focus on the nearly transparent figure huddled in the corner.
Taking a deep breath and trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, Joyce took one hesitant step at a time. Holding out her hand - the unwounded one - Joyce said in a comforting voice, “Willow, honey, I’m sorry for yelling like that. I was just startled. It’s OK now, just let me see you, dear.”
Joyce felt strangely calm; she figured later she could give in to the hysterics like she wanted to. Right now, though, Willow needed her.
When Willow turned to look at her, Joyce saw that she wasn’t transparent, but somehow her flesh itself had changed colors. Joyce watched as Willow’s skin bled back into its normal shade, though the black scar-like markings remained unchanged. She also saw that Willow’s face had changed back normal. Now, though, seeing her from the front… Joyce noticed an otherworldly to cast Willow’s features.
Her face had more angular planes to it than before; it reminded Joyce of fantasy drawings of elves; though, with a more sinister aspect. It was still more preferable to the beast-like look she’d originally seen.
Willow’s jaw and nose had the appearance of a small muzzle, and she had thicker brow ridges over her eyes. She looked similar to a movie version werewolf beginning its change.
Joyce made it half way across the room before she sat down cross-legged on the carpet with her back against the bed. She decided to treat Willow like a wounded animal, and the last thing she wanted to do was to make her feel cornered.
Being this close, Joyce was able to see Willow in more detail. Her eyes were still green, but the irises were larger, about the size of a nickel. The cat-like pupils had a hint of red glow to them, and when Willow licked her lips, Joyce saw that she actually had fangs like a vampire from the TV. Willow also had two small white horns growing out of her forehead. The horns were located where the forehead starts to curve toward the back of the head; they were about as thick as her thumb at their base and curved slightly up several inches, ending in very sharp points.
Joyce couldn’t quite understand the black markings; to her they looked like terrible scars left from some type of bite. But Willow’s flesh didn’t show any of the physical characteristics like she had seen in shark victims. The flesh didn’t look twisted or marred - aside from the black coloring itself.
For a while, they just stared at one another. Willow was quiet and Joyce was simply in a state of shock.
Finally, Joyce roused herself. Twisting around, she pulled the blanket that Willow had wrapped herself in off of Buffy’s bed. She needed to concentrate on Willow, even though her mind kept going back to something Buffy had told her and Hank before their divorce. Taking a deep breath, Joyce offered Willow the blanket. “Here you go, honey. I bet you’re cold, and this will make you feel better.”
It pleased Joyce that Willow barely hesitated before moving slowly on all fours to grab the blanket from her. Joyce, though, didn’t completely let go; she held onto one corner. When Willow started to pull on the blanket to take it back to the corner, Joyce gave it a slight tug as she gently said, “Willow, why don’t you sit over here with me? Honey, I promise I won’t scream again, OK?”
For a moment, Willow gave her an uncertain look, and then she moved tentatively closer while wrapping the blanket once again around her nakedness. This time Willow also draped the blanket over her head, leaving a portion of her face visible. Joyce noticed that Willow didn’t try to mimic how she was sitting; instead, she chose to crouch on the floor.
After licking her dry lips, Joyce asked in a kind voice, “Willow, are you hurt anywhere?”
Willow shook her head, “no.”
“OK,” Joyce replied, giving Willow a warm smile. Taking another deep breath, she plowed on. “Willow, dear, can you tell me what happened?”
There was such a long pause that Joyce feared she’d asked too much of Willow.
Then Willow answered Joyce’s question. Willow’s voice was rough, and she hesitated several times as if searching for the right words, “I died … and went …to Hell.”
The song “Silent Lucidity” is by Queensryche.
Complicated Questions
You know you can tell me anything you want to
Tell me something that I’d never know
Could be cautious as the words roll over your tongue
I’m stung with sick discovery…
“I went… to Hell… and died.”
Joyce blinked. She really didn’t know what she expected Willow’s answer to be, but dying and going to hell wasn’t it. Before she could think of another question, Willow asked one of her own.
After giving a nervous whine, Willow asked in a voice that sounded rough from disuse, “Buffy?”
“Oh, honey, Buffy’s gone.” Joyce immediately knew she had said the wrong thing when Willow threw her head back and let out an unearthly, keening cry.
Joyce surprised herself when she got up on her knees to hug Willow, without a second thought to what Willow was. That keening cry was filled with such heartache and loss that Joyce knew something of the old Willow was still there. Speaking loudly to be heard over the keening, she explained. “Buffy’s at her father’s, Willow. She’s alright; nothing’s happened to her.”
Willow’s keening abruptly cut off as she tilted her head down to look Joyce in the eyes. “Buffy alright?” she said with a childlike hopefulness.
Joyce replied, “Yes, she’s alright; though, she misses you terribly - as does Xander and that Mr. Giles.”
Joyce watched as Willow’s inhuman eyes got a faraway look to them as she softly repeated Xander’s and Giles’ names to herself. When Willow turned her attention back to Joyce, Joyce guessed what her next question would be.
Letting go of Willow and leaning back against the bed, Joyce said, “Xander went with his Uncle Rory to work on a ranch during the summer, and Mr. Giles went back to England to visit family for a little while.” Joyce paused a moment. There was something she had to ask; it made her feel selfish, but she had to know. “Willow,” Joyce’s voice shook slightly from nervousness, “is Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”
Willow’s blanket-shrouded form wriggled before she answered. “Yes…” Willow suddenly scrunched up her face as if she was about to cry. Her eyes remain dry, though. “Slayer hunts… vampires and others. Buffy hunts me now.” Willow ended her speech with a slight whine of sadness.
“You’re a vampire?” Joyce guessed she shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how Willow had licked her cut.
“NO!” Willow growled out as her face shifted into the monster face accompanied by the slithering sound Joyce had heard earlier.
Joyce jerked back in shock and not a little fear, but relaxed some when Willow - seeing her reaction - ducked her head down and let the blanket partially hide her face.
As she changed it back, she whimpered. “Sorry… sorry.”
“Ahh… it’s ok. It’s something I’m going have to get used to.” Right then and there, Joyce decided she was going to help Willow. She’d failed her daughter when Buffy told Hank and her about being the Slayer. Their reaction had been to commit Buffy. With Willow right before her, Joyce had undeniable proof that Buffy had been telling the truth.
Suddenly (but not surprisingly, considering the circumstances), Joyce found herself crying. She barely stopped herself from flinching when Willow captured one of her tears with a clawed finger. Joyce watched through tear blurred eyes as Willow took the finger and dabbed the tear on her own face. She then repeated the process, dabbing Joyce’s tears on the opposite cheek.
“What…” Joyce got out between sobs.
Willow shuffled a closer, the edge of her blanket brushing Joyce’s hip before answering in her coarse voice. “No… tears.”
Getting herself under control, Joyce asked, “When you cry, you have no tears?”
Willow solemnly nodded.
That sent her into another crying fit. Joyce opened her arms to Willow. “Oh, honey, come here; you can use mine then.”
Willow shuffled over to cuddle next to Joyce.
While she cried, Joyce ran her fingers through Willow’s silky red hair, avoiding the horns this time. Willow seemed to enjoy the caresses; she made an almost purring sound. Joyce was amazed to find that Willow’s ears were pointed now; they reminded her of Mr. Spock’s ears, though a bit longer.
When Joyce finally got her crying under control, she became very aware of just how bad Willow smelled. It wasn’t the poor girl’s fault, but Joyce decided that a bath was very much in order
Looking down at Willow Joyce asked, “Willow, dear, how does a bath sound to you?”
Willow looked blankly back at her, clearly not understanding what Joyce meant.
“Here, let’s get up, and I’ll show you, OK?”
Willow must have understood her, for she seemed to flow to her feet and let the blanket fall to the floor, completely unselfconscious of her nudity. Willow surprised Joyce further by holding out her clawed hand.
Hesitating only for a moment, Joyce reached out to grasp the offered hand and promptly found herself effortlessly, yet gently, lifted to her feet.
Keeping a grip on Willow’s hand, Joyce led her to the bathroom, all the while talking soothingly to her. Joyce hoped that her talking would help Willow relearn to talk once again. Whatever Willow been through seemed to have left her either partially amnesiac or - Joyce prayed to God she was wrong - heavily brain damaged.
Once they reached the bathroom, Willow was captivated by the mirror. While Joyce stood and watched, Willow stared long and hard at her reflection, tilting her head this way and that to get a better look at herself. Joyce wasn’t surprise when Willow made her face change, but what Willow did next did catch her off guard. She lifted one hand up and made her claws literally flow into different forms.
Joyce stared in amazement as Willow made her claws go from short human-like nails to wickedly hooked cat-like claws. She even managed perfectly straight ones. The last made Joyce think of a very small dagger blade.
Joyce was so distracted by the display, she didn’t at first notice Willow’s reaction to her mirror’s image. She slowly became aware of a strange gasping noise coming from Willow. When she looked up, Joyce saw that Willow had a look of anguish on her beast face and was making short wheezing noises.
Her version of crying, Joyce surmised.
“Hey,” Joyce said softly as she without hesitation cupped Willow’s beast face with her hands and stepped between Willow and the mirror. Looking into Willow’s inhuman eyes, Joyce said with all of the conviction she could muster, “Listen to me, I know you may look different, but inside I know you are still that sweet girl named Willow who is Buffy’s best friend.”
“Bu-ffy,” Willow lisped, her muzzle not quite right the right shape for speaking, and the look in her eyes caused Joyce’s heart to clench. It seemed that Willow, despite all she’d been through, still carried a torch for her daughter.
Joyce had noticed soon after Willow started spending time with Buffy that the shy red head had a crush on her daughter. At first, Joyce had thought it was simply due to Buffy being Willow’s first female friend. Buffy had told Joyce about Willow’s only friends - Xander and another boy. But over the school year, she had watched it grow into something more substantial, and it broke her heart to see how oblivious her daughter was.
There were times that Joyce came close to either telling Buffy what Willow was going through or having a heart to heart talk with Willow herself. But now it seemed she would never know, even if by some miracle Willow should regain her lost memories. Joyce simply couldn’t see her daughter falling for a demon.
Getting her mind back on track, Joyce gave Willow a warm smile. “Yes, Buffy, who is your best friend…right?”
“Yes,” Willow replied as her beast’s face melted away, causing Joyce to involuntary shudder.
She actually felt the flesh, muscle, and bone shifting under her fingertips. It had to be the weirdest thing she had ever felt.
Taking a deep breath, Joyce continued. “Willow, honey, I want you to understand that you have a home here, and all of us - your friends and I - are going to help you.”
“A home?” Willow whispered reverently.
Giving her a warm and earnest smile, Joyce replied, “Yes, a home.”
For the first time since seeing Willow in Buffy’s bed, Joyce saw a hint of the old Willow.
It was the smile she gave Joyce.
With a hint of joviality in her voice, Joyce went on to say, “Now, young lady, the first order of business is a bath for you, OK?”
“OK,” Willow softly replied.
Later…
“Here you go,” Joyce said as she set a plate of bacon and eggs before Willow. As she sipped her coffee, Joyce quietly watched as the red head tore into the food, using her clawed fingers in place of any utensil. Joyce wasn’t about to try getting Willow to us a fork or spoon right now - that would come later. Now, she would let the poor girl enjoy a home cooked meal.
As she watched, Joyce thought back over the past hour and a half. Getting Willow clean ended up going better than she had hoped. Once she had Willow in the bubble bath, Joyce had first started washing her hair. It surprised her that Willow’s hair was in such good shape; it was dirty, but there were no tangles and anything. Joyce also noticed Willow’s hair appeared thicker and silkier than before. Something else to add to the long list of changes the poor girl had gone through.
While Joyce was in the middle of lathering Willow’s hair for the second time, she observed Willow hesitantly grabbing a washrag.
After dunking it in the sudsy water, Willow began trying to clean herself. Joyce quietly showed her how to squeeze a small amount of the body wash onto the washrag and how to work it into lather. Willow quickly caught on, and in no time was scrubbing away with gusto.
So much gusto, in fact, that Joyce found herself getting soaked. That led to Joyce taking a quick shower after Willow. She kept Willow occupied by letting her try out all of the different hair brushes and combs.
It pleased Joyce to no end that after the bath Willow promptly and - most importantly - correctly used the toilet. Joyce did have to stop her from using way too much toilet paper, though. Afterward, Joyce walked Willow through how to brush her teeth using Willow’s old toothbrush, leftover from the numerous sleepovers. Again, Willow caught on very quickly, giving Joyce more hope for the poor girl.
Getting the red head dressed, however, proved to be a bit of an obstacle. Joyce had first tried a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants of Buffy’s. After getting Willow dressed, Joyce could tell that the red head wasn’t at all happy by the way she fidgeted and pulled at the clothing. All it took was for Joyce to turn her back for a moment for Willow to shimmy out of the clothing.
When Joyce questioned Willow, she had replied about being too tight while motioning at her legs. That gave Joyce the idea of trying one of Buffy’s loose summer dresses. The end result had Willow wearing a yellow sundress with white flower print held up by small shoulder straps. Willow still fidgeted some but kept it on – much to Joyce’s relief.
“More?”
Willow’s voice broke Joyce out of her musings. Looking up, Joyce found Willow holding an empty plate out toward her with a hopeful look on her inhuman face. Giving her a warm smile, Joyce said, “More you want, than more you shall get. I kind of thought you might be hungry so I made plenty.”
When Joyce took the empty plate from her, Willow surprised her by saying in her roughened voice, “Thank you.”
Reaching over to ruffle Willow’s still slightly damp hair, Joyce happily replied, “You’re welcome, my dear.”
Glancing down at the empty glass beside the red head, Joyce said, “Willow, if you want more water you can help yourself.” Joyce had noticed Willow watching her very intently while she got the ice cubes from the freezer and the pitcher of water from the fridge. Even in this short amount of time, Joyce could tell Willow remembered certain things. Now she was trying to get Willow more involved with doing things herself.
Willow remembered.
The song “Complicated Questions” is by Finger Eleven.
Ghost…
Down the ancient corridors
And through the gates of time
Run the ghosts of days
That we left behind
Down the ancient corridors
And through the gates of time
Run the ghosts of dreams
That we left behind…
Willow crouched on the edge of the sofa as she quietly watched the fish swimming back and forth in the aquarium. She found it soothing and right now she needed soothing!
So much had happened since she had awakened from her last sleep. She was literally in the home from her dreams and had found one of the people that used to dance through her thoughts. Plus, she now had names for the others that had haunted her sleep… Xander, Giles, and - most importantly - Buffy. Joyce-mom had cleaned her and fed her and even given her a glass that Willow could fill at anytime with water and ice. The glass had remained at her side since then.
It felt like heaven to her.
Hearing barking from outside, Willow turned around to look out the bay window. As she silently watched an old lady walking her little dog go by, Willow thought back over what had happened so far.
After Joyce-mom had fed her, going so far as to cook up another whole meal for her, she brought down a box of stuff to show Willow. A lot of it Willow could almost recall, and they caused her to feel emotions that she could barely put a name to. Other stuff was simply empty of any meaning for her. But the smells were unique and fascinating; Willow could actually smell her old self on the things. The Willow from before the Fall smelled clean and pure; she smelled human.
Giving out a small sigh, Willow rubbed a spot between her horns.
Her head hurt from all of the new/old feelings and thoughts she was experiencing. It was very confusing. As slow as if she were stalking a Nibble, Willow began to understand stuff. But still there was so much out of reach, Willow growled to herself.
Why was it that she could remember everything that had happened after the Fall, but before, when she was human, everything was hazy. Except for the memory of her death. She remembered the number of sleeps that had passed, the number of days, weeks, months, and even years. Each kill and each time she was killed. But when it came to the human memories, they slipped away from her like silt through her fingers.
Leaning back, Willow reached over to pick up her glass of ice water and drank the remaining liquid. She then ate the partially melted ice cubes. Getting up, she silently made her way to the kitchen, keeping an ear focused on Joyce-mom’s conversation on the phone. Joyce-mom had gone up to her bedroom to make the calls, but Willow was able to clearly hear what she was saying.
The phone… she knew that pushing on the little squares allowed you to talk to another person, and that the squares themselves had a meaning to them. But what that was and how the phone worked danced beyond her comprehension.
Once in the kitchen, Willow refilled her glass. First the ice cubes; using her claws she took two out of the try, remembering to refill the empty slots with water before putting it back in the freezer. She then got the pitcher of water out of the refrigerator and very carefully refilled her glass, making sure not to spill a drop.
As Willow left the kitchen, she heard Joyce-mom finishing up the phone call. She decided to wait for her at the base of the steps. When Joyce-mom saw her, she gave Willow sad smile and opened her mouth to speak, but Willow beat her to it.
“No Buffy.” Willow said solemnly.
“I’m sorry, honey, but you’re right. No Buffy,” Joyce-mom replied as she came down the steps. “The number Hank gave me went to his office, and they wouldn’t give me his overseas number. They will let him know that Buffy needs call me, though; I told them it was rather urgent. Unfortunately, he won’t be contacting the office until tomorrow.” Joyce grimaced. “I take it he’s currently out of reach at the moment.”
Slumping her shoulder, Willow replied dejectedly, “OK.”
“Oh, honey, come here,” Joyce-mom said to her as she pulled Willow into a hug. Mindful of her horns, Willow snuggled up against the only mother figure she’d ever really known. Joyce-mom’s hugs made Willow feel safe and wanted.
Pulling back a little, Willow look up and asked, “Can we… go walk?”
Willow watched with a sinking feeling as Joyce-mom glanced toward the front door while chewing her lower lip slightly. She then gave an abrupt nod and turned to Willow. “Of course we can go for a walk. Tell you what. We’ll swing by my art gallery; I need to put a sign up telling my customers I’ll be closed for a few days. After that, we can go wherever you want. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Willow replied in her rough voice.
:
Joyce watched Willow out of the corner of her eye as they walked, hand in hand, down the sidewalk toward downtown Sunnydale. The first thing Joyce did after deciding to go for a walk was to disguise Willow’s new features. For her horns, Joyce used a wide-brimmed hat that had fake flowers on the front. She actually poked Willow’s horns through the hat’s brim so they were hidden amongst the flowers.
With a pair of mirrored shades hiding her eyes, Willow looked like any normal teenager. Even the black markings looked like an exotic tattoo, and Heaven knew enough teens had those. A pair of sandals that Willow had left at the house in the past rounded out the ensemble.
The hat and sunglasses Willow hadn’t seemed to mind. The sandals, though, caused some grumbling, and that was the reason Joyce was carrying them in her free hand. Joyce had told Willow she had to put them on when they got downtown.
One minor hitch came when Willow wanted to take her glass of water with her, but Joyce had quickly fixed that with a plastic water bottle.
Willow seemed truly amazed at the sights around her. At times, she stopped to look at something, and several of those times Joyce had to keep Willow from going into people’s yards.
Joyce herself was taken aback by all of the small limbs knocked down by last night’s unusually fierce storm. She knew that when she had gone to bed, the weather forecast hadn’t called for any rain whatsoever.
The possible explanation for the storm suddenly struck her. Following her train of thought, Joyce turned and asked, “Willow, can you tell me how you… ah… escaped from Hell?”
Willow was quiet for a moment, and then she hesitantly answered. “I was hunting… then a flash of light and I was in library.”
In puzzlement, Joyce asked, “You mean in the high school’s library?”
Willow nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes… high school library, the Hellmouth.”
Joyce slowed down a little. “Hellmouth, what is the Hellmouth?”
Willow made a face in concentration before replying. “Hellmouth is…” she pointed at a gate in the picket fence they were passing. “Gate to hell. Old vampire opened it, and Hellmouth beast came out and ate me.”
Joyce stopped and turned to Willow in shock. “Ate… it ate you?” Dear God, please let me have misunderstood Willow! Joyce thought to herself.
“Yes.” Willow pointed at her bare shoulder with its exposed black markings. (Most of Buffy’s dresses wouldn’t fit Willow’s broader shoulders). “One head bit me there.” Willow unashamedly hiked her dress up, showing Joyce her scarred leg. “The other bit me here.”
Letting her dress down, she went on. “I screamed a lot, and Buffy tried to get me… but was too late. It dragged me to Hell and broke my neck. Then ate me.”
“I…” Joyce really didn’t know what to say, and she was beginning to feel a little light headed. Looking across the street, she saw the small park that was near downtown Sunnydale. Tugging on Willow’s hand, Joyce led Willow across the street to an empty park bench, where she wearily sat them down on the surprisingly dry seat.
Once Joyce had regained her equilibrium, she turned to Willow, who had sat quietly beside her taking small sips from her water bottle and looking around. “Willow, can you explain to me what happened after it…” Joyce took a deep breath before continuing. “…ate you?”
And much to Joyce’s horror, Willow did just that.
It felt surreal to Joyce. Here they sat in the warm sunshine, with the laughter of playing children drifting on the breeze and the fresh smell of the rain-soaked earth surrounding them. To Joyce, she and Willow seemed removed from all of that. She sat there listening to Willow’s halting words as she explained waking up in Hell and her existence afterwards.
Willow described her ordeal in a rambling manner, leaping from one thing to another, and Joyce let her, for she was simply paralyzed with sick horror. Joyce listened in fascination as Willow wove a tale of a nightmarish environment and how she learned to survive in it.
Joyce learned about the vast Sea of Silt and the mountainous islands that rose from it, with the largest being home to the Hellmouth creature itself. She was told about the many different demons that inhabited Hell and that were both food and predator to Willow. Willow dispassionately illustrated, with broad gestures, her first encounter with a Nibble and subsequently learning the proper way to eat the essence of a kill.
Willow told her how over many sleeps she slowly changed and grew stronger. The sleeps had caught Joyce’s attention, causing her for the first time to interrupt Willow, asking her about what she meant by sleeps.
It seemed that out of everything Willow had forgotten, she remembered the months and the number of days in each of them. Oh, she had bastardized the names of each month and day. But that didn’t matter, for Willow had been able to mentally keep track of the passage of time.
Joyce was stunned to find out just how long Willow had spent in Hell. One year, ten days, and one hundred and twenty-two sleeps.
After some careful questioning Joyce came to understand that instead of 24 hours in a day, a Hell day, as it were, consisted of four hundred and eighty-six sleeps.
Suddenly, Joyce had to get to the gallery. If her guess was right, she needed a calculator to figure out Willow’s true age.
After refilling Willow’s water bottle from a drinking fountain, they left the park. Willow was completely unconcerned with their abrupt departure; she simply went back to taking in the sights and smells around her.
The rest of the trip remained uneventful - at least until they reached her gallery. She had let go of Willow’s hand to dig her keys out of her purse, and just when she was inserting the key in the lock, a blare of horns and the screeching of tires caused her to spin around. Joyce was shocked to see that Willow had somehow crossed the street in the few seconds her back was turned and was disappearing into the pet shop located across from her gallery.
Joyce quickly crossed after Willow, waving apologetically at the irate drivers; though, she really wasn’t paying attention to what they were yelling. She was more concerned with what Willow might be doing in the pet store, especially after finding out what Willow had gone through to survive. It made Joyce feel ashamed, but she couldn’t shake the vision of the red head ripping the hearts out of puppies and kittens to eat.
Inside, Joyce found the shop eerily quiet, the normal cacophony of barks, meows, and bird calls gone. She saw that all of the animals were huddled in their cages as they fearfully stared at the silent red head standing by a bin of large dog bones.
Joyce noticed Todd, the store owner, standing behind the counter. He also had a look of uneasiness. When he spotted her coming in, he shot out from behind the counter to intercept her before Joyce had gotten too far into the pet shop.
“Joyce, it’s a pleasure to see you,” Todd exclaimed nervously. The whole time he kept an eye on Willow, who was picking up and examining individual bones. “Have you seen the damage that the storm did to Martha’s place?”
“No, I…” Joyce began answering, but Todd cut her off.
“Here,” he said, as he grabbed her arm and started to gently - but firmly - push her toward the exit. “Let me show you.”
But before they even took one step, Willow was suddenly there, with her water bottle in one hand and a large bone in the other, causing both Joyce and Todd to jump in startlement.
They couldn’t see her eyes because of the sunglasses, but they could tell she was staring very intently at where Todd held Joyce’s arm. There was a dangerous stillness to Willow’s stance.
Without a word, Todd hurriedly removed his hand.
Willow stared at Todd a moment longer then turned to Joyce, holding up the bone. “Want.”
Joyce, who was trying to get her rapidly beating heart under control, replied, “You want the bone?”
“Yes.”
Taking a deep breath, Joyce said, “Willow, what do you say when you want something?”
After a slight pause, Willow replied, “Please?”
Smiling in return, Joyce said, “That’s right, and I’ll get you the bone, but, Willow, no more going off like that, OK?”
“OK,” Willow replied solemnly.
After paying for the bone (during which Joyce noticed Willow watching the exchange of money very intently), Joyce took Willow back to the gallery.
Later…
Joyce sat at her office desk in stunned disbelief. She had just finished figuring out Willow’s age. Turning away from her figures, Joyce watched Willow as she quietly wandered the front of the gallery looking at the art work. If her estimates were correct, (counting each sleep as an Earth day), then poor Willow had spent close to five hundred years in Hell.
Elsewhere…
“Yes, I completely understand, and we won’t let you down.” The older gentleman paused a moment as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “We’ll leave immediately on the next available flight. Good bye.”
After hanging up, he turned to the young Jamaican girl who was standing quietly in the room. Straightening his smoking jacket he said, “It’s seems that several of the Witches at the Devon Coven have sensed something has been summoned from the Hellmouth itself. We are to leave posthaste to hunt down and destroy the demonic entity. While you pack our bags, I shall make travel arrangements. And, Kendra, try not to wrinkle any of my shirts this time.”
“Yes, sir,” Kendra the Vampire Slayer obediently replied.
The song “Ghost” is by Dan Fogelberg.
Rule the World
Sometimes I tremble like a little child
That faces morning with a broken smile
Sometimes I crumble when the shades unfurl
Sometimes I feel that I could rule the world…
“I look forward to finally being able meet you in person.” Joyce paused as she listened to the person on the other end of the office phone. She was very happy that she and Willow were still in the gallery when this call came in. “You’re welcome, and I’m glad that I was able to help. I’ll see you Monday then… good-bye.”
After hanging up, Joyce leaned back in her desk chair and purposely licked her lips, giving in to some not so tame thoughts. Between the photos of him she had seen on the internet and listening to very sexy accent, a girl couldn’t help but to dream a little.
“Wonder what he looks like in a kilt, or - more precisely,” Joyce thought to herself, “out of it.”
Her grin faded as she thought about the reason he was making the trip. He was coming to collect a piece of art done by his late girlfriend who had died over four years ago. The artwork had been mistakenly sold by an assistant, and he’d been looking for it since then.
“I want.”
Willow’s voice jerked Joyce out of her musings; swinging around in the chair, Joyce found Willow, who had removed her mirrored sunglasses, holding a Tibetan Skull mask of Durda. The mask had been created by a local artist.
Before Joyce could say anything, Willow went on to say, “Please.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t have that,” Joyce replied.
With a slight frown, Willow repeated herself. “I want. Please.”
Joyce reached for the mask. “I’m sorry Willow, but I can’t buy that for you,” she said gently.
After raising Buffy, Joyce recognized the signs of the coming tantrum. What Willow did next, though, still took her off guard. Willow drew the mask back against her chest, and her beast face came out. “I WANT!”
The spurt of fear Joyce felt caused her to overact a little. With a loud crack, Joyce smacked the palm of her hand on her desk as she surged to her feet. In a firm voice, she responded, “And I said NO!” Using the same technique she had used on a younger Buffy, Joyce pointed at the doorway leading to the gallery’s showroom. “Now, Willow I want you to go straight…”
“NOOOO!”
Willow’s terror filled cry shocked Joyce into silence; mutely, she watched the red head drop to her knees and tearlessly sob while holding the skull mask out to Joyce in supplication.
After shifting her face back, Willow looked up at Joyce from under her hat’s brim. Her eyes were filled with an almost unfathomable fear. “Please don’t send me back to Hell.”
Willow’s pleading voice cut through Joyce’s paralysis, and she dropped to her own knees in front of Willow. “Oh God she thought I was telling her to go straight to Hell.”
After taking the skull mask out of Willow’s trembling hands and setting it on her desk, Joyce quickly hugged Willow to her. Feeling the hat’s brim crunching up, Joyce carefully removed it and cradled Willow’s head against her chest.
Inwardly cursing herself, feeling she shouldn’t have taken Willow out of the house so soon, Joyce soothingly talked to Willow as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Honey, I’ll never send you back to Hell. I was only going to tell you to put the mask back. I’m sorry you thought otherwise.”
“Not go back?” came the whispered reply.
“No… you don’t have to go back.” Joyce tightened her arms around Willow. “You never have to go back, my dear.”
“OK.”
Later…
After Willow had calmed down, Joyce asked her if she wanted to go home. Seeing Willow hesitate before answering, Joyce surmised what was causing the apprehension. She gently explained to Willow that she could ask whatever she wanted, but if Joyce said no then Willow had to accept that.
Willow wanted to continue their walk, which Joyce readily agreed to.
Before they left, Joyce made up that week’s deposit; though, she wasn’t going to drop it off today. She had a little lesson planned for Willow later.
After refilling the water bottle and putting the dog bone (wrapped in a plastic bag) in her purse, Joyce and Willow left the gallery. Joyce led Willow away from downtown; all the people out and about seemed to make Willow nervous.
They were passing one of Sunnydale’s numerous cemeteries when Willow suddenly slowed to a stop. Pointing at one of the many tombstones, Willow asked a question that sent a chill up and down Joyce’s spine. “Is there… one for me?”
Joyce had to swallow before answering. The subject matter made her a little queasy. “Yes… yes, there is one for you.”
Willow glanced up at her. “Go see, please?”
“OK,” Joyce replied a little breathlessly, “but it’s not here. It’s at another cemetery.” Joyce couldn’t bring herself to say the word grave.
“Thank you,” Willow replied.
It didn’t take them long to get to the cemetery in question and for Joyce to find what Willow wanted to see.
Willow Danielle Rosenberg
Beloved Daughter
Of
Sheila & Ira Rosenberg
Joyce watched in uneasy silence as Willow approached the engraved tombstone, literally walking over her own grave. Her bare feet left footprints in the muddy earth. When Willow crouched down and started to slowly trace the engravings with her finger, Joyce made herself move up beside the red head. Avoiding the mud, Joyce crouched next to Willow and quietly asked, “Do you know what it says?”
Willow surprised Joyce when she began to retrace Willow as she quietly spoke, “Willow.”
“Yes… that’s right; now, can you read the rest?” Turning it into a reading lesson was helping Joyce cope with the eeriness of the situation.
“No,” Willow softly replied.
Reaching over, Joyce gently took Willow’s hand and finger and started to slowly trace the other words as she sounded them out to her. After Joyce was done, Willow retraced the words on her own while saying them out loud. She got them all correct, much to Joyce’s happiness.
Joyce decided to continue the lesson. “OK, Willow, can you tell me what this says?” Joyce pointed at the word Rosenberg.
“Ros-en-berg,” Willow sounded out the syllables.
Smiling at Willow, Joyce said, “Right. How about this?” She pointed at Willow’s middle name.
“Danielle,” Willow said with a touch more confidence.
“Yes, Danielle, and how about this one?” Joyce moved her finger over Beloved.
When there was no reply, Joyce glanced over at Willow just in time to see her lips pull back into a snarl as she grated out, “Lie.”
“Oh, no, honey,” Joyce said, reaching out to rest a hand on one bare shoulder. “I’m sure they loved you in their own way.”
Willow jerked her head around to face Joyce, and even though her eyes were covered by the mirrored shades, Joyce could feel the intensity of her gaze. “No… they no love me!” And with that, Willow drew her hand back as wickedly curved claws formed on her fingertips. Before Joyce could react, Willow slashed across the word Beloved, gougingfour parallel grooves in the granite.
Willow spun away from Joyce and surged to her feet with such force that her dress flared up enough for Joyce to catch a glimpse of the black scars on her legs. As she walked away, Willow’s voice drifted back. “Go home now.”
That evening…
“Pleasant dreams,” Joyce said softly before planting a gentle kiss on Willow’s forehead between her two horns. Willow lay in Buffy’s bed, wearing one of Joyce’s nightgowns. Joyce hadn’t even attempted to get her into any of Buffy’s pajamas, figuring she wouldn’t like them.
“Pleasant dreams,” was Willow’s soft reply.
Standing up, Joyce smiled down at Willow before leaving the bedroom. At the doorway, she turned to Willow, who was quietly watching her. “Remember you can help yourself to any of those sandwiches I made for you or the fruit. But,” Joyce humorously wagged a finger at Willow, “no trying to cook, OK?”
Giving Joyce a small grin, Willow replied, “No cooking.”
“That’s right; no cooking. Now, I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, Joyce flicked off the overhead light and went to her own bedroom, leaving both sets of doors open on the off chance Willow called out to her during the night.
As she took off her robe, Joyce gave out a tired sigh, the day’s events finally catching up to her. After laying the robe across the foot of her bed, Joyce crawled under the sheets.
Even though she was horribly tired, Joyce couldn’t help thinking over what had happened that day. Willow’s return, her subsequent opening of Joyce’s eyes to a much darker and terrifying world, and her daughter Buffy being intimately a part of that new world.
After the disastrous visit to the cemetery Joyce took Willow back to the house, and for most of the trip, Willow was fairly subdued. By the time they arrived, Joyce was glad to see Willow back to her earlier inquisitive self. Once home Joyce made them both lunch, remembering to fix extra for Willow since she ate everything Joyce put in front of her.
The rest of the day they spent lounging around the house, either watching TV or talking. Joyce had decided that the best thing for them both was simply to relax the rest of the day. She didn’t want to overwhelm the poor girl, and, truthfully Joyce was rather dazed herself.
It wasn’t till they sat down to watch some cartoons (actually Joyce sat on the couch while Willow crouched beside her), that Joyce found out why Willow wanted the dog bone. At first, Joyce wanted to reach over to take the bone from Willow, who had slowly begun to gnaw on it as if it was an ear of corn, but she stopped herself. She could plainly see Willow enjoyed the action. It made Joyce grateful that the noise from the gnawing was about as loud as someone eating chips.
Joyce smiled slightly, recalling for supper they had a picnic in the backyard. With the privacy fence and the small trees blocking the neighbors’ view, Joyce allowed Willow to keep her hat and glasses off - though they remained close by just in case. It really made Joyce happy to see Willow having so much fun exploring the fenced-in yard.
The real heart-wrencher for Joyce came when Willow called her Joyce-mom for the first time. Willow had said it so naturally that it had taken her a moment to catch just what she said. Joyce wasn’t ashamed to admit that it made her a little teary eyed.
The big attraction for Willow turned out to be a colony of ants; the red head was simply captivated by them and would return often to watch them. She even fed them some of the bread from the sandwiches Joyce made. Only twice did Joyce have to tell Willow no: once when she started to climb a tree and the other when Joyce noticed her eating insects. Eww!
Joyce’s last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were about Buffy and the hope she would be home soon. Joyce knew that she couldn’t watch Willow all by herself for too long.
Later…
Willow lay patiently in bed listening to Joyce-mom’s heartbeat. She could vaguely recall waiting in bed with Buffy for Joyce-mom to fall asleep before they went hunting. Willow itched to get out and explore her new territory and especially retrace her steps back to the cemetery where the grave for the human Willow was.
While the two of them had been at the cemetery, Willow sensed the weak presence of demons hidden in some of the small crypts scattered about. She even felt a slight tingle from a few of the fresh graves, too.
If Joyce-mom hadn’t been with her, she would’ve hunted the demons then, but instead she chose to wait. Joyce-mom wasn’t a hunter, and Willow didn’t want her to get hurt. For Willow, Joyce-mom’s safety came first.
Once Willow heard Joyce-mom’s heartbeat and breathing even out, she knew it was time to go. Quietly, Willow slid out of bed and quickly shimmied out of the nightgown, happy to finally being free of any confinement. After taking a large drink of water from her glass by the bed, Willow silently slid open the window - the same window she had entered earlier in the morning.
Closing the window behind her, Willow turned to survey the street and surrounding houses. She then effortlessly leaped down to the ground below and noiselessly disappeared into the night.
In ever increasing circles, Willow checked the surrounding area for any threats to her home and Joyce-mom. Once she was satisfied there were none, she turned her strides towards the cemetery.
At a steady pace Willow made her way through yards and across streets. If anyone happened to see the elusive shape, they would think it was only a shadow, for Willow’s chameleon ability had darkened her flesh and hair into tones of gray, blending the wraith-like form into the shadows seamlessly.
Once she reached the cemetery, Willow slowed and began to actively hunt. She moved softly and soundlessly through the stone monoliths, all of her senses reaching out into the darkness around her. At times, she stopped to sink her claws deep into the soil, and it was during one of these times that she picked up her first quarry.
:
Rhonda had never felt so powerful and ALIVE, even if she was currently digging herself out of her own grave. While digging through the loose soil, Rhonda kept herself occupied by making a ‘to kill’ list of friends and family. At the top of the list was her newborn baby sister, and she planned to eat her in front of her parents just to show them what she thought about them trying to replace her with a squalling brat.
Finally, one hand then the other burst through the surface, and she used the new leverage to pull the rest of her body out. Rhonda was quite happy with herself as her waist became even with the top of the ground. Well, she was happy until something slammed into her back - hard.
Rhonda’s scream of rage came out more as a muffled squawk when her face smashed into the ground. Even before she could use her newfound speed, Rhonda felt a stab of pain in the back of her neck, and then everything below her neck went numb. With her eyes rolling in fear, Rhonda found herself turned over, and she saw her attacker for the first time.
“Rosenberg?” Rhonda couldn’t believe it. It was the geek a grade behind her, and she was naked! Suddenly, Rosenberg’s face filled her vision, and Rhonda saw that the red head wasn’t human anymore. Out of fear, Rhonda’s face changed as it twisted in a terrifying snarl. Unfortunately, instead of having the desired effect of causing her to run off in fear, Rosenberg’s own face shifted into a much more terrible visage than her own. Rhonda’s face shifted back as she cowered before a much stronger demon.
Rosenberg stared at her a moment longer before her gaze drifted lower, and suddenly Rhonda felt her head give a slight jerk. It angered Rhonda to see that the demon girl had ripped her favorite white-gold emerald necklace from around her neck. The little bitch actually cooed at the necklace, seemingly very taken with its beauty. Then Rhonda heard her mumble about more pretties, and Rosenberg searched her entire body.
The demon bitch stole two earrings (which hurt when they were torn from her earlobes) and a ring off her finger. All of which matched the necklace. As this was happening, Rhonda kept screaming mentally in the hopes that her sire would hear her. She didn’t know if he could or not, but she was beyond desperate at that point
When Rosenberg’s arm came dangerously close to her teeth, Rhonda took the chance to snap at it. With the damage to her neck, though, she failed miserably. The arm jerked back and Rosenberg’s demonic face once again filled her vision as she lisped, “I’m no food!”
She paused a moment, making Rhonda wonder what she was up to - then she found out. Rhonda watched, horrified, as Rosenberg raised a hand and the nails flowed into knife-like claws. She pulled her arm back, making her intentions very clear. “You food!” Rhonda heard just before the clawed hand plunged into her stomach.
Even through the paralyzing numbness, Rhonda felt pain and the intruding appendage forcing its way under her ribcage. Silently, she began pleading in her head, to her Sire or even God. “Please save me! Please, I’ll do anything, I’ll be a goo...”
She turned to dust.
The song “Rule The World” is by Kamelot.
Blood Red Sandman
Red drops stain satin so white
The way I sign my name
The neighborhood's pretty dead at night
And I'm the one to blame…
Willow stared down in disgust at the pile of dust her prey had become. She also felt angry and frustrated at herself - once the vampire turned to dust, she remembered that was what happened when they die.
Giving out a silent sigh, she turned to gather up the pretties. Willow had a vague recollection that she might be able to trade them for the skull she had seen at Joyce-mom’s gallery.
Willow paused a moment to admire how the pretties glittered in the moonlight. Aside from the Sea of Silt, nothing in Hell glimmered so beautifully.
Suddenly dropping the jewels, Willow spun around to intercept a charging male vampire. Willow’s fast reaction took the vampire completely by surprise, allowing her to hook one set of finger claws into his chest and thrust the other set under his belt. Using the vampire’s momentum, Willow threw the now screaming vampire fifteen feet into the wall of a small crypt where he hit with a loud crunch, silencing his screams.
Even as the vampire left her grip, Willow kicked backward with her left leg. Her foot slammed into a second vampire (who had been lagging a little behind the first), burying the curved toe claws into the flesh and muscle just below his ribcage. After hooking her toe claws under the ribcage itself, Willow abruptly straightened her upper body, simultaneously folding the leg with the impaled vampire on it so that her heel touched her naked backside.
As the vampire slammed into her back, Willow reached over her shoulders with lightning speed and wrapped her clawed fingers across the back of his neck. She then pulled her hands forward so that several of her claws found their way between the vamp’s vertebrae.
Letting the now paralyzed vampire slide to the ground behind her, Willow leaped toward the first vampire, who was in the process of slowly getting up. Much to her surprise, she was tackled midair by a third - and much larger - male vampire. When they hit the ground, Willow’s head struck a tombstone, slightly stunning her, and her smaller body was trapped underneath the heavy male.
Before Willow could react, the vampire buried his teeth into the side of her neck. Hissing in both anger and pain, Willow began to rake and claw at any part of the vampire she could reach. Her claws had barely begun cutting the undead flesh of her attacker when he suddenly threw himself off her.
Even as he rolled away, Willow flowed to her feet as her hunter face came forth. Growing her finger claws to their maximum length, Willow prepared to pounce on the large male, but he suddenly threw his head back and let out a gurgling scream.
She watched in astonishment as blue, white and red lights shone from deep within his throat before he suddenly burned up from the inside out. The flames that consumed him were the same color as her own sparkles that danced across her wounds as they healed.
“Holy fucking shit, where the hell did you come from?”
Looking away from the rapidly dissipating ash cloud, Willow spied the first vampire staring at her in shock. Pulling her lips back from her elongated teeth, Willow lisped out, “From Hellmouth!”
“Oh,” he replied quietly - then turned and began to run away.
Willow gave chase; on silent feet she quickly closed the distance between them. When she was close enough, Willow leaped upon his back, bearing him to the ground. Before he could react to her attack, Willow’s head snapped downward to sink her teeth into the back of his neck. Willow’s muzzle allowed her to encompass his neck easily. Ignoring the screaming from her prey, Willow crushed his spine between her jaws with a few violent shakes of her head.
Once he went limp, Willow quickly spat the mangled flesh out of her mouth so she could scrutinize her surroundings. The third vampire had rattled her a bit. In Hell, everything hunted alone. On the very rare occurrence where a third demon got mixed in the hunt, it generally became a free for all. The teamwork the vampires had shown was completely foreign to Willow’s experience.
The only thing to catch her attention was the rapidly retreating form of a female vampire running away. Willow had to fight her instincts to give chase; she finally turned back to the vampire at her feet. With one hand, Willow picked him up by the back of his belt and carried him over to where she had left the other paralyzed vampire.
After dropping him, Willow once again checked her surroundings thoroughly before retrieving the pretties she had dropped. Letting her face shift back to normal, Willow then went about searching the two vampires. The only other pretties she found were a ring and one earring. She did find a bundle of paper, though. Money - a memory whispered, and the smaller of the two vampires had a long, black leather coat that she took. Before rolling the pretties and money up in the coat, Willow made sure to lick the blood off its collar. She was going to hide it while continuing her hunting and didn’t want the blood smell to give it away.
Finally, all that was left for her to do was taking care of both vampires. Crouching down between them, Willow watched as they silently snarled at her; it made for such a comical sight that she let loose a quiet round of giggles which only seemed to infuriate them more. She really didn’t want to eat them like she did other demons. Willow didn’t want to eat something that once was human like her, but she did want to eat their essence.
Giving it some thought, Willow came up with an idea that might work. Choosing the bigger of the two, Willow straddled his waist, making sure though her toe claws were firmly in the ground. Her actions earned her a peculiar look from the vampire. The look got even stranger when she ripped his shirt open, but it became the familiar look of fear when her hunter face came forth.
Bracing her left hand on his chest, Willow grew a couple of the claws on her right hand so they were curved and wickedly sharp on the inside. She sank the two claws deeply into his flesh at the top of his chest, just to the right of his sternum. Then, with a sharp jerk, Willow sheared through the ribs from top to bottom. After that it was simple to pry open the vampire’s ribcage, exposing his unbeating heart.
Without further ado, Willow plunged her snout into his open chest cavity to slowly crush his heart between her large teeth.
Essence.
It wasn’t much - about a fourth of what she would get from a Nibble - but it was essence all the same. Before too long, though, the essence was gone, and the vampire turned to dust underneath her. Inhaling the dust didn’t bother Willow at all. Long ago, her body had adapted to the silt-laden air caused by winds blowing across the Sea of Silt.
Turning to the other vampire, Willow crawled over to straddle him; though, this time, before she began cutting, Willow said to him what Joyce-mom had said to her at the beginning of the third meal. With her hand braced and her claws digging into him, Willow leaned forward so that her hair fell around their faces, cutting them off from the outside world. Her face return to normal, and Willow gave him a beatific smile as she said, “Dinner is served.”
Later…
When Willow got within a couple of blocks of home she made sure that no threats were in the immediate vicinity. Once she was satisfied Willow made her way to the front of the house and leaped effortlessly up onto the porches roof.
After entering through the window, Willow unrolled the leather coat on Buffy’s bed. She then went about arranging her pretties on a bare spot on top of Buffy’s dresser. The money, though, she stuck under her pillow, following some distant memory.
Afterward, Willow went to the bathroom to take a shower, bringing the coat with her. She remembered Joyce-mom putting the dirty towels in a hamper, and another old memory told her things in there would get cleaned.
Earlier, when Joyce-mom had taken her shower, Willow had paid attention to what she had done; therefore, it was easy for her to get ready herself. From getting the fresh towels from the cabinet, to how to turn the water on so it would come through the shower head. Though, she didn’t turn on both knobs, like Joyce-mom had done. She didn’t want to make the warm water any colder!
The warm water running down her body felt so wonderful and the liquid soap made her smell so nice. Willow made sure to scrub every part of her body using the washrag, its softness feeling so much better than the centipedes many little claws did when they had cleaned her.
When Willow opened the shower curtain, the sight that greeted her stunned her into stillness. At first she thought there was a fire, but a quick sniff told her the smoke was made up of water. Chewing her lower lip in nervousness, Willow stepped out of the shower as she tried to figure out what she had done wrong. Then, spying a switch, Willow remembered that Joyce-mom had flipped it to turn on a fan located in the wall. After turning it on, Willow felt very relieved to see the vapor being slowly sucked out.
With that taken care of, she turned her attention to the mirror only to find it covered with water. It turned out to be easily fixed; she simply used the dry bath towel to wipe the mirror, and, with that done, she dried herself.
Once dried, Willow spent some time simply brushing her hair with several of the different brushes and combs that were scattered about. It felt very relaxing. Willow also brushed her teeth with the toothbrush Joyce-mom had given her. The vampires hadn’t left a very good taste in her mouth. She made sure to brush her hunter teeth, too.
Leaving the bathroom, Willow quietly made her way to Buffy’s bedroom to retrieve her empty water glass. She then ghosted down the steps to the kitchen for another glass of ice water. After drinking the first glass, Willow refilled it to take with her to bed; though, once at the top of the stairs, Willow changed her mind and entered Joyce-mom’s bedroom.
For a moment, Willow simply stared at the sleeping human female who was lying on her side facing away from her. Coming to a decision, Willow silently set the glass down on the small table next to the bed; she then smoothly slid under the covers with Joyce-mom. Using all of the hunting skills she learned in Hell, Willow scooted her back against Joyce-mom’s without waking her.
For the first time in ages, Willow fell asleep feeling completely safe.
The song “Blood Red Sandman” is by Lordi.
Providence
Here - I stand before you all
This body's been beaten and battered
But I will not fall
Time - It may change me
As I look back upon this cold life
I see nothing but misery
Push me: Pull me:
I will not turn away
All this: Pain will:
Prove fruitful one day
You'll see…
As Joyce slowly drifted to consciousness, she became aware that her face was buried in a mass of strangely warm hair which smelled of her favorite vanilla shampoo. The next thing that intruded into her awareness was the very naked female body she was currently spooning.
Joyce’s eyes snapped open in shock.
Now fully awake, Joyce took a more thorough examination of her predicament. Sometime during the night, Willow had climbed into bed with her. In itself, it wasn’t a bad thing. The bad thing was that during the night the sheets had been kicked off both of them, causing Joyce to cuddle up to Willow.
The situation brought back memories of waking up in similar circumstances during her flower child days. She immediately shied away from those memories; now surely wasn’t the time for reminiscing.
One of Joyce’s arms was under Willow’s neck, while Willow held the other in a firm grip, pressed between her breasts. Trying not to wake Willow, Joyce began to slowly withdraw her arm. She wasn’t gentle enough.
Willow turned her head to give Joyce a smile. “Hi.”
“Good morning,” Joyce replied, returning Willow’s smile.
“Good morning,” Willow mimicked.
“Honey, why didn’t you stay in Buffy’s bed?” Joyce asked.
Willow got a forlorn look on her face as she quietly replied, “Lonely.”
Joyce let out a small sigh. “I see; tell you what, Willow, for a while you can sleep with me. But,” Joyce arched her eyebrows comically, “you need to keep your nightgown on… OK?”
Giggling slightly at Joyce’s action, Willow replied, “OK.”
“Good. Now that’s settled, how about we get up and I’ll make us some breakfast?”
“OK.”
Later…
Joyce stared down in puzzlement at the leather coat she found in the bathroom’s clothes hamper. After finishing breakfast, Joyce had taken Willow - who was back in her nightgown - into the living room to watch some Sesame Street while she did the laundry. Joyce had purposely chosen something educational, and it seemed to be working. Every once in a while she heard Willow singing along with the show, something to do with the letter H.
Putting the coat on top of the dirty clothes, Joyce carried the basket downstairs. After setting the basket down, she took the coat into the living room and saw Willow crouched on the couch, gnawing on her bone as she watched the TV.
Before Joyce could say anything, Willow turned her head. When she saw the coat, her face brightened. “Is it cleaned?”
“What… er, no it’s not cleaned yet,” Joyce replied. Gesturing with the coat, Joyce asked, “Honey, where did you get this?”
Willow stood up to give the coat a sniff (causing her to wrinkle her nose); Joyce wasn’t surprise since it reeked of stale cigarette smoke and beer. Willow then looked up at her. “Got it from vampire before sleep.”
Joyce paused a moment before replying, “You mean last night before going to bed?”
Willow shook her head, “No… I wait for you go sleep. Like Buffy and I did. Then go hunt.”
Joyce felt herself growing alarmed. “You mean you left the house last night?”
Willow got a slightly nervous look on her face as she softly replied, “Yeah.”
Taking a deep breath and trying to calm her nerves, Joyce asked, “Honey, can you tell me exactly what you did after I went to bed?”
Willow did, and she grew progressively more exuberant as she described to Joyce last night’s hunt. Joyce found herself once again listening in horrified wonder as Willow told her what she had done the previous night. Her stomach lurched when Willow described finding a vampire pulling itself out of its grave, and what she did to it.
Joyce remained silent until Willow mentioned being bit. “You’re hurt?” She dropped the leather coat onto the floor and started frantically checking Willow’s neck. Willow just stood quietly as Joyce checked her over; she seemed to enjoy the attention.
Pulling back, Joyce asked Willow, “Honey, where did the vampire bite you?”
“Here,” Willow said as she pointed at a spot where her neck and shoulder came together.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause I can’t find a scratch on you.” Joyce felt both worried and relieved at the same time.
“Yes, but sparkles make it go away.” Willow’s face brightened with excitement. “They burn up the vampire!”
“What?” Joyce was thoroughly confused; she remembered Willow mentioning sparkles yesterday but never really found out what they were. “Willow,” Joyce asked with concern, “what are sparkles?”
Instead of a verbal answer, Willow simply raised one hand with its palm facing Joyce and then casually sliced the middle of it with a clawed fingernail.
“Willow!” Joyce cried out in shock as she attempted to grab the red head’s bleeding hand.
Willow had a different idea. “Wait,” Willow said as she quickly stepped back, keeping her hand out of reach.
Before Joyce could do anything else, a tiny flash from Willow’s cut caught her attention. Willow must have sensed that Joyce wasn’t going to try to grab her again, for she moved her hand closer for Joyce’s inspection.
Joyce was surprised at the lack of blood from Willow’s cut. It was bleeding but not nearly as much as it should have been considering how deeply Willow had cut.
She watched in amazement as small bluish-white and red sparks, or as Willow called them sparkles, danced across the cut to leave unblemished flesh in their wake. Once the cut was healed, Willow simply licked the small residue of blood from her palm. She then smiled at Joyce and said, “Sparkles.”
Joyce blinked a few times as she tried to process what she’d seen. “How did the sparkles make the vampire burn up?”
Willow thought for a moment and then shrugged. “I think… sparkles live in blood. He drank my blood and they burned him up.”
“Do demons have sparkles in their blood?” Joyce asked, feeling that sense of surrealism again. She was so very out of her depth.
“Only sparkles in heart blood… essence. Cut them and no sparkles come to heal.” Willow gave Joyce a big smile. “Only I have sparkles that heal.”
Thinking back to yesterday when Willow had described how she hunted and got the essence from demons gave Joyce an idea. “Willow,” Joyce asked, “how do you know that there are sparkles in the heart blood?”
“I drink the essence and sparkles come out of heart; they jump into me.” After answering, Willow pantomimed the action. She made a fist and stuck her thumb in her mouth before making fluttery motions with the fingers of her other hand. Going from the fist (heart) to her face.
The scene made Joyce feel queasy. “Willow,” Joyce said, putting an ended to Willow’s show and tell, “do you need this essence to live?”
After thinking for several moments, Willow replied, “Yes.” She paused before going on. “When I get close to a demon I… feel the essence, and I hunger. But not meat hunger I feel. Is different.”
“Willow, when you were telling me about your time in Hell, you said that at times you went a long while, or many sleeps, without food. I take it you didn’t get any essence either?”
Willow cocked her head as she answered, “No essence.”
“Well then.” Joyce took a deep breath, trying to settle her stomach. All of this talk about Willow’s eating habits was making her feel rather nauseous. “I think it won’t hurt you not to hunt until Buffy and that Mr. Giles gets home. Maybe they can find something else as an alternative to essence, or at least find some way to make hunting safer for you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt anymore.” Joyce reached out to lightly touch the unbroken skin where Willow had said the vampire had bitten her to reinforce her point.
Joyce felt relieved when Willow bowed her head as if in compliance to her parental order.
Needless to say, she was taken off guard when Willow looked up and said with a hint of steel in her voice, “No.”
Narrowing her eyes, Joyce said sternly, “What do you mean… no?”
Willow straightened her back as she met Joyce’s eyes. “I hunt; before each sleep, I hunt. I make you safe. I make others safe. This what Buffy do… we do before I Fell.” Willow gestured at herself as, with a slithering noise, her face changed into the beastly one. Then it changed back. “Damned I am, but still I hunt like Buffy. If you say no, I still hunt. Even… even if you not let me come home.” The last sentence was said in a soft, dread-filled whisper.
Joyce opened her mouth to reply, but then she slowly closed it. She made herself stop and think before she answered Willow’s ultimatum. Leaving the leather coat on the floor, Joyce took Willow’s hand and led her to the couch where she sat the both of them down.
Well, Joyce sat and Willow crouched.
Looking into Willow’s inhuman eyes, Joyce asked, “I’m going to have the same conversation with Buffy, aren’t I?”
Willow didn’t reply; though, she did tilt her head as if urging Joyce to go on.
“You see, Willow, before Hank and I divorced, Buffy told us about being the Vampire Slayer - at least, she tried to. We didn’t believe her and,” Joyce had to pause as a sob tore from her throat. She felt Willow rest a hand on her shoulder. Once she had gotten herself under control, Joyce looked back up to meet the red head’s slitted eyes. “We had her committed.”
Seeing Willow’s eyes narrow in thought, Joyce hesitantly asked, “Willow, do you understand wh…”
“Rubber room and tied up arms,” Willow hissed out with anger.
Joyce flinched, not out of fear, but out of remorse. Willow’s anger was justified. “Yes,” Joyce replied, then closed her eyes in pain at the memories of Buffy’s pleas and the look of betrayal in her eyes. Opening her own eyes, Joyce continued, “We had her committed into a mental hospital for delusional behavior. They had to keep her drugged because of her displays of unusual strength. The doctors attributed it to something similar to hysterical strength.”
Joyce paused a moment then shook her head in consternation. “Willow, I’m sorry. I seem to have gotten away from my original reason for bringing this up. When Buffy tried to explain what being a Vampire Slayer meant, one of the things she had told us about was her patrolling. She said that she had to patrol to keep us and other people safe. So to get back to the point…when Buffy gets home, I guess I’m going to have to accept that she will be going hunting every night like you.”
“Buffy no hunt; she patrols. She not eat demons. She Slays,” Willow corrected in a lightly chastening tone of voice.
Joyce stared at Willow in stunned amazement, and then she suddenly burst out laughing. After all that had happened since yesterday, Joyce needed a good laugh, and Willow’s statement struck her as funny.
Still laughing slightly, Joyce said, “Well, I stand corrected.” She then sobered before continuing. “Willow, I’m not going to try to stop you from hunting, but I will make some ground rules that you will follow. OK?”
“OK,” Willow replied, and Joyce could plainly hear the relief in her voice.
Every parenting instinct in her wanted to keep Willow from going out to hunt, but Joyce had heard the conviction in Willow’s voice. She truly felt that if push came to shove, Willow wouldn’t come home, and Joyce couldn’t take the chance of that happening. Joyce tried to look at it from the point that Willow had survived some five hundred years in hell; surly after that, she would be able to take care of herself.
Giving Willow a tired smile, Joyce said, “We’ll talk later about the rules; right now it’s time to get cleaned up.” Thinking about the deposit money she had brought home yesterday, Joyce went on to say, “Willow, while we wait for Buffy to call, why don’t we make today a school day?”
“School?” Hearing the eagerness in her voice, Joyce caught a glimpse of the old Willow shining through.
“Yes, school. I have some lessons in mind to help you remember stuff. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” Willow replied as she literally bounced with excitement.
Later…
Willow watched more TV while Joyce-mom took her shower. Joyce-mom had Willow take hers first. Even though Willow had taken one before sleeping, she didn’t complain - she really enjoyed taking showers!
The ringing of the phone caused her to jerk in surprise. Willow worriedly glanced at the phone then up toward the ceiling where she could hear the shower running. It rang several more times then the answering machine picked up, and Joyce-mom’s voice answered.
Willow remembered yesterday when that had happened she had became confused for a moment and then understanding flooded her and she knew what an answering machine was.
“Hey, Mom, Dad said you wanted me to call…” Buffy’s voice caused Willow to whine with distress. She still could hear the shower going, and something told her that Joyce-mom couldn’t hear the phone.
Buffy sounded sad, which made Willow sad. When Buffy said that she would call back later, Willow acted. Remembering how Joyce-mom had answered the phone, she picked it up and held it to the side of her head.
“Hello,” Willow nervously said into the receiver.
“Mom?”
“No.”
“Who is this?” Buffy asked, sounding concern.
“Willow.”
The song “Providence” is by Kamelot.
Live To Tell The Tale
An errant soul, homeless and foul
All gone but the will to
Live to tell the tale
Dark chambers of my mind
Locked around the neck of my love
None of you understand
And it doesn’t matter
To a broken marionette like me…
“Willow.”
That one word, spoken in a voice that, though rough as if from disuse, was suddenly very, very recognizable. It caused Buffy to fall to her knees onto the cruise ship’s cabin floor.
Emotions warred inside her; happiness and hope fought against fear and despair. If that really was Willow (and some inner sense said it was) then her Mom could be in terrible danger.
Or worse.
“Willow,” Buffy rasped out, the fear making her mouth bone dry, “where is Mom?”
“Shower,” came Willow’s timid reply.
Licking her lips, Buffy went on to ask, “Is Mom alright?”
After a long pause that caused Buffy’s heart rate to sky rocket, Willow slowly replied, “Yes.” She then went on to say, “Buffy… I not hurt Joyce-mom. I make her safe! Like you do. Buffy, Joyce-mom lets me take showers and makes me food and,” here Willow’s voice took on a tone of near reverence, “she gave me a glass for water and ice. Joyce-mom tells me I can fill it anytime I want.”
By this time tears raced down Buffy’s cheeks as she listened to Willow’s childlike voice. Whatever she had been through had clearly left its mark on her. Fighting back a sob, Buffy asked, “Willow…” She didn’t even know what she wanted to ask first. “How did you get away from the Hellmouth?”
“I didn’t; it ate me.” At the reply, Buffy covered her mouth with one hand in horror.
“But how...?” Buffy wasn’t sure how to phrase the question; luckily, Willow must have understood what she was trying to ask.
Willow answered her unspoken question with a nightmarish tale. “I woke in Hell and was damned. Human I was but not die. Cut and sparkles heal me. Little demon, Nibbles I name them, rip my heart out and drank my essence. It ate me, but not all of me; too little its tummy was. When I live again, I cut its heart out and drank its essence. I ate and ate until my tummy was big like the Nibbles was with me. But the Nibbles never came back. No demon that I eat comes back, but I do, I always come back.”
The room spun around Buffy as she valiantly fought to keep her late-night snack down. It was a losing battle. She barely made it to toilet in time. As she threw up, Buffy’s Slayer hearing could make out Willow’s frantic cries coming from the phone she had dropped. There was a loud thunk, and Willow’s voice receded as she called out for “Joyce-mom.”
Buffy had just exited the bathroom - after rinsing her mouth out - when she heard her mom’s concerned voice calling for her. She rushed over to pick up the phone, “Mom!”
“Oh, Buffy, I’m so glad you called,” Joyce replied.
“How are you?” Buffy asked; she could hear the stress in her mother’s voice.
“I’m doing alright, I guess, all things considered,” Joyce replied. “Buffy, I hope you can forgive me for how I reacted when you told your father and me about being the Vampire Slayer.”
Buffy abruptly sat down in a nearby chair as her mother’s words sank in. She stammered out a reply. “You… you only did what you thought was right.”
“Well, I thought wrong, and I’m going to try my best to make it up to you, Buffy. And the first order of business is telling you how proud I am of you.”
“Proud?” Buffy tearfully whispered.
“Yes, proud,” Joyce replied, and Buffy could hear how sincere her mother was. “If I understand Willow correctly, you and your friends have been going out every night to hunt…”
“Slay!” Buffy heard Willow exclaim in the background.
“Thank you, Willow,” Buffy heard her mom say. “As I was saying, you’ve been going out every night to Slay and saving people from vampires. I’m just ashamed that I made things so rough for you, and I’m sorry. When you get home, I think it would be best for us to sit down and talk. How does that sound to you?”
“Wonderful,” Buffy said, weak with relief and feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Now, though, something else weighed heavily on her mind. “Mom,” Buffy said, “tell me about Willow.”
“Well, I found her on your bed yesterday morning, and I have to say that was one of the biggest shocks of my life.” Joyce gave out a dry chuckle. “Truth be told, since then I’ve had so many shocks that I’m starting to feel kind of… I’m not sure how to put it.”
“Numb?” Buffy said quietly.
“Yes, that fits how I’m feeling very well. Anyway, back to Willow. Honey, she’s not… human anymore, and she’s deathly afraid you are going to Slay her because of it. But I want to assure you that she still is Willow; it’s just she’s forgotten an awful lot, and she’s been through some horrid experiences.”
Buffy’s stomach churned as she tried to come to grips with what Joyce had just said. Finally, she asked, “How different is she?” Buffy knew from talking to Willow earlier that something seemed wrong with her mentally, but it sounded like there were many more differences. A part of her wanted to know, but, at the same time, another part dreaded the answer.
“She’s more childlike, and she has forgotten a lot of things. She does seem to be remembering stuff all the time. Physically, she still pretty much looks like herself; though, she’s got two horns, which are very cute.” Buffy got the impression the last was statement was for Willow’s benefit. “Her pupils are cat-like and they glow red. Willow can make her fingernails into claws and… oh!”
“What happened?” Buffy asked worriedly.
“Nothing bad,” came the quick, but calming, reply. “Willow just showed me she can make her toenails grow into claws, too.”
“OK,” Buffy said dazedly. With how she was feeling, Buffy couldn’t imagine what her mom must be going through.
Joyce continued, “Buffy there’s one other thing; Willow can make her face change.”
“Change how?” Buffy asked sharply, her thoughts turning to vampires and the way their faces changed when their demon surfaced.
“Well, she grows a snout with large fangs, and her horns get bigger.”
After a moment of fruitlessly trying to imagine her best friend with a snout, Buffy asked her mom, “Do her eyes turn yellow when her face changes?”
“No, they stay the same. Come to think of it, her brow ridges do become thicker,” Joyce answered, and she then asked Buffy to hold on.
With her enhanced hearing, Buffy easily heard her Mom asking Willow to go get large towel for her hair. After a moment, her mom came back on and spoke a little more quietly. “Buffy, there’s something I think you need to know; while Willow was telling me about her time in Hell, it came out that she was able to roughly keep track of time. If my figures are right…” Joyce took a deep breath before continuing. “Honey, Willow spent about five hundred years in Hell.”
Buffy stared unblinkingly ahead as her mind grappled with that number. She simply couldn’t fathom the concept. Her mom’s voice caught her attention.
“Buffy!” Joyce called worriedly.
Shaking her head, Buffy replied, “Sorry, Mom, I… I just kind of phased out there. Are you sure about that?”
“It’s a rough estimate, but, yes, I’m sure. Honey, is that Mr. Giles your… What did you call it? Watcher?”
Buffy felt her eyebrows rise in surprise, but then she figured out how her mom came to that conclusion. “Yes, he is; I take it that Willow told you?”
“Actually, no. I remember you mentioning a Slayer having a Watcher with them. Willow only remembers going out with you, Xander, and Mr. Giles to Slay. Though, she does remember something about a metal man wanting to get her heavy with eggs. Those were her words. The reason I asked is that I remember you saying that a Watcher knows about demons, and I thought he might have a better grasp on what Willow has gone through - and how long she was actually in Hell,” her mom replied. “Hold on, Buffy. Willow’s back with my towel and I really need to wrap my hair. Did you want talk to…?”
Buffy felt grateful to her mom for giving her an out, but she did want to talk to Willow. “Yeah, put her on.”
After a little fumbling around, Willow’s voice came over the phone. “Hi, Buffy.”
“Hey, Wills,” Buffy replied with forced cheer.
“Miss you.”
Buffy had to choke back a sob before replying, “Oh God, Willow, I miss you, too.” Buffy closed her eyes for a moment before continuing. “Willow, I hope you can forgive me for not saving you.” Maybe it was wrong of her to ask right now, but it had been eating away at Buffy for all this time.
“I forgive,” Willow said softly.
“Thank you,” Buffy said, as tears once again raced down her cheeks. Feeling both ashamed and yet relieved, Buffy made herself change the subject. “So, Willow, what have you been doing since you been back?”
Buffy figured that was a safe subject to ask about; she couldn’t very well ask how Hell was!
“Joyce-mom took me for a walk. I got a bone from place with animals and saw Joyce-mom’s gallery. I want a bone face that I saw, but Joyce-mom says no.” Here Willow’s voice lowered. “I was bad, not listen, and Joyce-mom yell at me. I listen now!”
“Well,” Buffy said through lips quivering with pent-up emotions, “that’s good you listen to Mom. Umm… what else have you done?”
“I saw my grave, lies were on it. We ate sandwiches in backyard. I waited for her to sleep and went hunting like we did. I got me four vampires, Buffy!”
“Wait… what do you mean you got four vampires?” Buffy exclaimed.
“OK, three vampires. My sparkles made other burn up. One coming out of ground; I got pretties from her, but she turned to dust when I rip her heart out. The others… I made them not move. I thought and got essences from them! Oh… I got money and long coat from one. One vampire bit me, and he burn up from sparkles in my blood. I slept with Joyce-mom, was lonely. Joyce-mom says is OK, but I have to have nightgown on next time, not naked.”
Buffy heard her mom in the background saying in mortification, “Oh God”.
Buffy silently mouthed, “Naked!” The image that came to mind was just wrong.
Willow continued, though. “Buffy, today Joyce-mom says is school day, and I have lessons!”
“That’s good,” Buffy replied numbly, her mind reeling from Willow’s babble-fest. No wonder her mom sounded stressed.
“Buffy, Joyce-mom says have to say goodbye. Goodbye!”
Sniffling a bit, Buffy replied in kind, “Goodbye, Willow. I’ll be home soon.”
“OK.”
Then it was her mom back on the phone. “Honey how are you doing?”
“I…” Buffy was at a complete lost for words.
“Feeling kind of numb?” her Mom said with a touch of grim humor.
Her mom’s remark made Buffy give out a bark of laughter. “Yeah… a lot of numb.” Buffy grew serious. “Mom… you’re the best. I can’t imagine any other parent handling this so well.”
There was a long, tired sigh before Joyce replied, “Thank you, honey, for those kind words, but I have to admit I’m feeling a bit out of my depth here. I can’t wait for you to get home; I really could use the help.”
“I’ll call Giles. I have a feeling he’ll be able to make it back before me. The ship’s next stop isn’t for another three days, and I don’t know if there’s even an airport there. Once I find out how I’m getting home, I’ll let you know,” Buffy said.
After a long pause, Joyce replied and Buffy could hear the masked disappointment in her voice. “That would be wonderful, Buffy. We should be OK here until then.”
Buffy felt like an idiot when she suddenly remembered something. “Mom, you can call Jenny Calendar. She’s knows about the nightlife and…”
“Computers!” Buffy easily heard Willow exclaim.
Buffy couldn’t help smiling at the sheer excitement in Willow’s voice. If there was anything that could help her regain her memory, that was it. Then it struck her that Willow’s hearing must be vastly improved for her to hear what Buffy was saying.
After telling Willow to quiet down, Joyce asked Buffy, “You wouldn’t happen to have her phone number?”
Buffy did and happily gave it to her mom.
The song “Live To Tell The Tale” is by Nightwish.
What Have They Done To You
There must be something out there,
There must be something real
Well this mystery's a nightmare
And I don't know what to feel
Well I heard you had a hell of a time there
I guess it chilled you down to the bone
If there's one thing I can tell you
It'll never leave you less than alone…
Jenny Calendar let out a tired sigh as she pulled to a stop in front of the Summers' residence. She really wasn't looking forward to the upcoming conversation with Buffy's mother Joyce.
Joyce had called earlier, asking if she could come over. Joyce had something to discuss with her about Willow. Buffy's mother had also stated that she now knew about Buffy being the Slayer and would like to find out more about that part of her daughter's life.
As Jenny made her way toward the front door, she fervently wished Giles was here instead off to England for some Watchers' retreat. She just didn't feel adequate for what she imagined was going to be a very intense conversation with Buffy's mother.
After ringing the doorbell, Jenny didn't have to wait long for Mrs. Summers to answer the door, and Jenny immediately noticed she appeared a little stressed.
Joyce gave her a small smile as she stepped to the side. "Hello, Ms. Calendar. I want to thank you again for coming over at such short noticed."
Right away, Jenny realized Mrs. Summers didn't verbally invite her in. As she stepped inside, Jenny said, "It's no problem; though, I wish it was over more pleasant circumstances."
Shutting the door, Joyce turned back to face her and took a deep breath before saying, "First off, Ms. Calendar…"
"Please, call me Jenny," Jenny politely interrupted.
Giving her a nod Joyce went on. "Jenny, then, and you can call me Joyce. As I was saying, Buffy knows about the situation and she gave me your number so that I could contact you."
Giving Joyce a puzzled look, Jenny asked, "What's the situation?"
"I think it's best if I show you." Joyce gently took Jenny by the elbow and guided her toward the living room.
The person Jenny saw standing in the living room literally made her feel as if someone had gut punched her, and the breath whooshed out of her in shock.
It was Willow.
She was standing in a pool of sunlight that lit the lower half of her body from the waist down. Willow wore a light blue dress that fell to just above her knees and had spaghetti straps that left her shoulders uncovered. Willow's left shoulder bore teeth-like scares; though, instead of pale scars, these were black and glittered faintly. Willow's feet were bare, and she wore a hat and sunglasses.
"Goddess," Jenny whispered in a mixture of horror and awe as she took a fearful step back, breaking the light hold Joyce had on her elbow.
Joyce turned to her and said in a calming voice, "Jenny, it's OK. Willow won't hurt you. She's been here since yesterday morning and never once has tried to hurt me. Actually, she needs our help."
"Help… help with what?" Jenny asked the older woman without taking her eyes off Willow. So far, Willow had held perfectly still, and seeing the teenager (who normally fidgeted with nervous energy) holding so still was disquieting to Jenny.
Then Willow broke her unnatural stillness. Tilting her head as she answered Jenny's question in a slightly rough voice, Willow said, "My memories."
Later…
Jenny, leaned dazedly back in the chair located in Joyce's living room as she took a sip from the glass of wine in her hand. A hand which Jenny was happy to see had stopped shaking. Buffy's mother, sitting on the couch across from her, had a similar glass in her own hand. Willow crouched on the floor between the two women counting money; it seemed that Joyce had been in the middle of a lesson when Jenny had arrived.
Taking another sip of the red wine, Jenny looked on as Willow, who had removed her hat and sunglasses (subsequently allowing Jenny to see the demonic aspects she had gained while in Hell), soundlessly mouth each number as she counted the bills and loose change. Her heart ached at the mental effects of what Willow had gone through. The physical changes were simply staggering as well. Jenny felt grateful that Joyce had offered the wine after Willow had described her existence in Hell. After such a horrifying story, Jenny really needed something to take the edge off.
After setting the wine glass down on a nearby table, Jenny turned to Joyce and said, "I'll be glad to help anyway I can. I think the first thing is to bring her computer here; we took it to my place since I was the…" Jenny winced as she went on to say, "only computer literate person at the time. The unfortunate thing is it's password protected, and so far I haven't been able to crack it." Jenny looked sadly at Willow before going on. "When it came to computers, Willow was a genius."
"Well, maybe when she sees it she'll remember," Joyce said hopefully, but before she could go on, Willow turned to face her as she raised her hand as she would have in class. "Are you done?" Joyce asked.
"Yes," Willow replied eagerly. "The money is one hundred and forty-seven dollars and eighty-two cents."
Joyce gave Willow a big smile. "That's right Willow!"
Jenny watched as Willow returned Joyce's smile with one of her own. Willow then got a look of concentration on her face. "Joyce-mom," Jenny couldn't help smiling again at hearing Willow's name for Buffy's mother, "how many dollars is bone mask?"
"Willow, honey, it's called a Skull Mask of Durda, and you want to say how much does the Skull Mask of Durda cost," Joyce replied. With how fast Willow seemed to be picking up on things, Joyce had decided to help Willow with grammar.
Silently, Jenny watched Willow's demonic eyes as her attention turned inward and she mouthed the sentence Joyce had given her. Willow then refocuses her attention on Joyce. "Joyce-mom… how much does the Skull Mask of Durda cost?"
"Two hundred and twenty-five dollars."
Willow looked down at the money with a frown; after a moment she looked back at Joyce. "Not enough."
"You're right; there isn't enough. And, Willow, before you ask…you can't use this money. It belongs to my gallery," Joyce said in a kind but firm voice.
After giving a small huff of irritation, Willow suddenly got a smile on her face and then hurriedly gathered up the money she had been counting. After returning it to the deposit bag, Willow took a drink of water and then simply walked out of the living room and made her way quietly up the steps to the floor above, leaving behind two bewildered women.
Jenny shot Joyce a puzzled glance as she asked her, "Any idea what Willow is up to?"
Looking away from the stairs, Joyce met Jenny's gaze. "I'm beginning to wonder if she looted more than just a leather coat last night from the vampires." Joyce's voice held grim wonderment.
"Looted?" Jenny asked in surprise.
Before Joyce could answer, both women's attention was caught by Willow coming back down the steps. Jenny and Joyce watched as Willow came into the living room with her hands cupped before her. What they saw in her hands shocked them.
As Willow dumped the contents of her hands onto the coffee table, Jenny couldn't help herself from quipping to Joyce, "Now why didn't the Scoobies think of that!"
Joyce looked up in confusion. "Scoobies?"
Letting out a soft chuckle, Jenny explained. "That's what Buffy, Xander, and Willow call themselves… well, Giles also. Though, I bet you he'll never call himself that."
Joyce just shook her head in bemusement as she turned back to look at what Willow had looted from the vampires. She reached out and picked up a beautiful white-gold and emerald necklace. Willow was too busy counting a rather large wad of cash to notice.
"That looks real," Jenny said in amazement.
"It is," Joyce replied in wonderment. "Even with the clasp broken, I estimate it's worth about a thousand dollars." It was fairly easy for her to estimate the necklace's value from her experience with her art gallery.
"Damn," Jenny couldn't help blurting out.
Joyce shot her a look that held a touch of humor in it. "Only problem would be selling of it." She turned her head to look down at the other jewelry laid out on the table. "I imagine these items haven't exactly been acquired legally."
Jenny gave a grim chuckle before replying. "You're right in that regard; when it comes to vampires and most demons, ownership ends with their victim's life. That's why places like Willy's Bar do so well in Sunnydale." Seeing the questioning look on Joyce's face, Jenny went on to explain. "Willy's Bar caters to demons and vampires, and Willy himself is a well known snitch. I bet Willy knows who would buy this – if he couldn't do it himself.
"Well, I don't think there will be any need for her to go to such an establishment," Joyce said firmly while her eyes strayed over to where Willow crouched on the floor, seemingly oblivious to the conversation going on around her.
Jenny wisely held her tongue about Buffy going there regularly for information.
Willow's voice drew her attention away from that thought. "Joyce-mom… the money is three hundred and forty dollars." Giving Joyce a proud smile she went on. "I want to buy Skull Mask of Durda… please."
Jenny had to cover her mouth with one hand to hide her smile at the look of consternation on the older woman's face. Finally, Joyce let out a quiet sigh and said to Willow, "OK, honey, you can. How about later we go for a walk, and we can swing by the gallery so you can buy the mask?"
"Thank you!" Willow replied excitedly. She started gathering up the jewelry spread out on the table.
"Willow, would you like something to put your things in?" Joyce asked as she handed the redhead the necklace she had been looking at.
"Box?" Willow asked.
"No, not a box. I was thinking along the line of a shoulder bag I got down in South America years ago." Seeing Willow's puzzlement, Joyce clarified what she meant. "Honey, it's like the purse I took with me but bigger, and I think you will like the art work on it."
"OK… thank you," Willow replied happily.
"You're welcome, Willow," Joyce said while giving Willow a warm smile. "Now just wait here, and I'll be right back."
Jenny watched silently as Willow admired how the sunlight coming through the large window reflected off the jewelry. Willow would twist and turn each piece and softly coo at the colorful flashes. Again, Jenny felt a fierce heartache at what had happened to Willow, and she silently sent a prayer to her Goddess for the redhead's speedy recovery.
It wasn't too long before Joyce returned with the bag in question. Jenny immediately understood why Joyce thought Willow would like it. The shoulder bag was woven with warm earth tones and had fantastical white jaguar faces. The faces looked almost skull-like.
Willow let out a soft trilling cry on seeing the bag that reminded Jenny of a parrot she once saw in an animal act. In a smooth, flowing motion, Willow got up from her crouch to hurry over to Joyce. She took the bag from the older woman. "Thank you."
"Now, Willow," Joyce spoke to the redhead as she handed her the bag, "this came with a bunch of smaller pouches, which I left inside, and I put a few things in there I think you'll like."
As Joyce sat down, she shared an amused, though slightly sad, glance with Jenny. They both watched Willow dump the large bag's contents onto the table with a glee reminiscent of a small child. Willow let out several soft trills on seeing the assortment of combs and brushes Joyce had added. Willow commenced organizing all of the similarly-styled drawstring pouches according to size, smallest to largest. After she was done with that, Willow put the jewelry into a few of the pouches, making sure similar pieces went in the same pouch.
Jenny could see a glimpse of the old Willow in how meticulous she was in storing her loot in such an organized manner. Looking up at Joyce, she caught Buffy's mother gazing at Willow with such an maternal look on her face that it made her feel a sudden lump in her own throat. After taking a sip of the wine, she got Joyce's attention with a slight wave of her hand. "Joyce, I think I know someone that could help Willow with her demonic side."
"Who?" Joyce asked in puzzlement.
"Angel, he – aiiiie!" Jenny's scream was due to the fact that the childlike Willow had suddenly surged up from the floor. Her nails flowed into wickedly curved claws and her face morphed into a demonic visage. With her lips pulled back in a vicious snarl exposing razor sharp fangs, Willow growled out one word full of loathing, "Angel."
The song "What Have They Done To You"
is by Styx.
Angels Fall First
An angel face smiles to me
Under a headline of tragedy
That smile used to give me warmth
Farewell - no words to say
Beside the cross on your grave
And those forever burning candles…
"Willow… wake
up. Come on, Willow, it's time to get you out of here." The voice awoke
Willow in time for her to feel a blanket settle over her, covering her head to
toe.
"Buffy?" she whispered
in rising hope.
"I'm here, Wills, and I'm
taking you home," Buffy's voice replied as she helped Willow off her stone
bed located deep in the cave.
Willow made sure to keep the
material over her head, hiding her face. Hope warred with fear. Buffy had come
for her; after all of this time, Willow still held onto the hope that this day
would happen. Nervous or fear, though, caused her to want to hide her face and
Willow knew not why. On exiting the cave, Willow saw the valley floor was
covered with the smashed remains of numerous centipedes. She felt no regret.
Willow was finally going home.
As they made their way toward the
exposed land bridge leading to the Hellmouth beast,
Willow spotted various demons that Buffy had slain. Some had stakes driven into
vital organs, while others were killed with sharp metal sticks. There were even
those that had feathered stakes sticking out of them, too. Willow luxuriated in
the feel of Buffy's arms holding her and the way the blanket around her smelled
of Buffy as they made their way across the bridge.
Several times they had to step over
the severed tentacles from a Nemo. For the first
time, Willow felt absolutely safe crossing the land bridge; nothing could harm
her with Buffy at her side. The entire time they walked, Willow listened to
Buffy's talking about life outside of Hell. Willow didn't understand much of
what she said; she simply took pleasure in hearing Buffy's beautiful voice
after such a terribly long time.
When they reached the base of the Hellmouth beast's tubular shell, Willow was amazed at what
Buffy had done to it. Great cracks spiraled up the creature's shell; the cracks
were of such proportion that they created a stairway, allowing the two of them
to walk all the way to the top. There, Willow saw that the Hellmouth
beast's three heads had been staked just under the opening that led to the Room
of Books. From the opening blew a fresh breeze; the breeze pushed the nasty
cloud that hovered over the Hellmouth beast away from
Buffy and her.
The Hellmouth
beast's snake-like body and long neck were twisted and turned in such a way
allowing Willow to followed Buffy up the tunnel of air. Hands reached down,
pulling them into the room lined with books. Willow saw The Wise One and The One with the Laughing Eyes. Then her gaze sharpened. From
the shadows, a figure in black stepped forth. The Dark One… he
who she remembered dancing with Buffy while Willow looked on, feeling both
happy and sad. Willow's years in Hell and the changes it wrought upon her body
altered her feelings. The happiness faded and the sadness turned into a far
darker emotion.
After sniffing the air, he said
something that caused everyone to look at Willow with great sadness. Willow
felt the blanket slip from her head, exposing her demonic features for the
first time.
Paralyzed, Willow could only watch
as The Wise One and The Laughing One turned away with
looks of grief on their faces. She watched silently as Buffy, her cheeks wet
with tears, reached for her only to have The Dark One pull Buffy back. After
giving Buffy a kiss, he wrapped one arm around the Buffy to hold her struggling
form against his chest. With his other arm, The Dark One reached out to lightly
lay the tips of his fingers against Willow's chest, just above her breast.
Looking her in the eyes with his own
Hunter face out, he said one word that Willow understood completely.
"Mine."
And then he push
her back to Hell.
Hearing the Dark One's true
name caused the memory of one of Willow's most frequent nightmares to rush over
her, making her feel again the terrible rage at the one who stood between her
and Buffy. The rage burned through her, making her deaf and blind to the world
around her. Willow, though, could sense that her Hunter face had come forward
and that her fingers felt heavy with the weight of her claws.
Willow slowly became aware of a
voice. The soft voice cut through the roaring of the blood rushing in Willow's
ears. As she focused on the voice, Willow felt herself gradually quieting.
Growing progressively calmer, she noticed that her throat felt sore, and the
muscles throughout her body quivered as if she had put them under a great
strain. When Willow became fully aware of her surroundings again, she found
Joyce-mom had wrapped her arms around her middle from behind as she spoke
soothingly into Willow's pointed ear. Willow saw that Jenny wore a look of
terror on her face and held herself perfectly still in her chair.
Willow closed her eyes as she let
herself lean back into Joyce-mom's embrace, basking in the feelings of safety
and love that only Joyce-mom could make her feel.
Jenny slowly and quietly let out the
breath she was holding after Willow's eruption. The metamorphosis from
childlike girl to raging demon had come so suddenly it caused her heart to skip
a beat or two. She'd nearly screamed out in warning when she saw Joyce throwing
herself off the couch to embrace Willow from behind. In silence, Jenny watched
Joyce murmur softly to Willow, the older woman's words soothing the savage
beast that Willow had become. Jenny jerked when, with a slight noise, Willow's
demonic face melted back into her more human one. Judging from Joyce's lack of
reaction at Willow's changing, Jenny figured she had seen it before and had
simply forgotten to mention it to her.
"Food."
Jenny's attention shifted from
watching to listening when Willow spoke. She guessed
the red head had answered an unheard question posed by Joyce.
"What do you mean, he's food?
Honey, I thought you said you didn't eat humans?" Joyce asked, her voice filled with an equal amount of apprehension and
confusion. Joyce's heart was beating so hard it made her throat hurt. She
couldn't help thinking, with dark humor, that the past several days had given
her a great cardiovascular workout.
Shaking her head to banish the
useless thought, Joyce turned Willow around to face her as she asked the
question again. "Willow, what do you mean that Angel is food?" Joyce
felt the red head's already tense muscles tightening even more under her hands
where they rested on the Willow's shoulders.
Willow's face scrunched up in a
grimace of distaste as she spat out,
"Vampire!"
Joyce's eyebrows rose in surprise,
"Vampire… you mean this Angel is a Vampire?"
"Yesss,"
Willow hissed. "Angel food."
Taking a deep breath, Jenny spoke.
"I think I can shed some light." At the moment Jenny didn't want to
say the vampires name out loud; she was leery of Willow's reaction. "To
answer your question, Joyce, yes, he's a vampire. He is over two hundred years
old, but for the last one hundred years, he has been cursed with a soul."
"Cursed? You mean he didn't
have a soul before?" Joyce asked her.
Seeing that Joyce didn't have a
complete understanding about vampires, Jenny was quick to give a brief
explanation about how a vampire sires another and the subsequent replacement of
the human's soul with a demon. During her explanation, inspiration struck.
"… and after the Gypsies found out who had killed the Clan's favored
daughter they cursed Angelus with his soul. And, before you ask, magic and
curses are real." Jenny gave Joyce a small smile. "Even the curse in
the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty is based on a real event." Please take
the bait! Jenny thought to herself as she gazed at Joyce.
During her explanation, Buffy's
mother had sat back down on the couch with Willow stretched out so that her
head lay on Joyce's lap. Much to Willow's apparent delight, Joyce
absentmindedly ran her fingers through the red head's hair as she thought about
what Jenny had told her.
"Am I correct in saying that as
long as this Angel has his soul, he's one of the good guys?" Joyce asked
the younger woman. Then, before Jenny could answer, a horrifying thought popped
into her head. "Does a kiss break the curse?"
While Jenny felt like cheering
inside, she made sure to keep a mild look of puzzled humor on her face.
"It would have been broken by now, I'm afraid." She felt grateful
that the only reaction from Willow was a small grimace. Giving Joyce a look of
apology, Jenny went on. "You know… we never did think about what could
break the curse."
The look that Joyce shot her
suddenly made Jenny understand why Willow, who had been lost in Hell, cowered
before the human woman.
"So, it's my understanding
that," Joyce said, biting out each word, "my daughter is dating
someone who can suddenly revert back to being a psychotic killer vampire?"
"Y-yes," Jenny replied,
feeling a bit embarrassed at the slight stutter.
"I will not have my daughter
dating some mo…" Joyce glanced quickly down at the top of Willow's head
where it rested on her lap. "…some person who, at the flick of a mystical
switch, will turn evil."
Using her experience with talking to
her students' parents, Jenny said, "Joyce, I can understand where you're
coming from, but if it's one thing I've learn from being around Buffy, the
quickest way to get her to do something…"
"Is to tell her she
can't." Joyce finished for Jenny in an aggravated tone of voice. Joyce
leaned back as she forced herself to calm down. For the first time since Willow
came back, she actually found herself grateful that Buffy wasn't home. It gave
her time to really think about the circumstance surrounding her daughter and
this Angel person…vampire.
Looking up at the younger woman
sitting across from her, Joyce gave Jenny a rather sheepish smile.' "I'm
afraid Buffy inherited both her fathers and my stubbornness." The smile
faded from her lips. "I'm just so worried for her… it's hard enough
knowing that I have to let her go out and slay. Now, finding this out about her
current boyfriend…" Joyce shook her head in exasperation, at a complete
lost for words.
Jenny felt horrible for what Joyce
was going through, and yet, she knew it was for the best. If Angel and Buffy
should ever be together, the resulting outcome would be far more terrifying and
possible deadly for them all.
Later…
Willow ghosted through the quiet pet
store as she looked to see what else they had that might interest her. Over her
shoulder rested her shoulder bag, and with one hand, Willow carried a
small basket that Joyce-mom had given her to put stuff in that she wanted to
buy. The basket already had several bones, some of which even smelled of
different flavors!
Jenny and Joyce-mom had talked a
little longer about Buffy and Angel, and even though Willow didn't fully understand
what all was said, she did know that Joyce-mom did not like Angel. That was a
good thing.
Willow looked forward to supper -
and not just for the fresh food. Jenny was going to eat with them and bring
Willow's computer along. Something about the computer made Willow excited and
her fingers twitchy. Just thinking about the computer made dim memories stir,
like a brief glimpse of a Nemo passing near the Sea
of Silt's surface. Words and concepts danced in her head: Bookmarks, chat,
email… hacking. Willow didn't know why, but the last one made her think of
quietly stalking her prey.
After Jenny left, Joyce-mom had
taken Willow to her gallery, where Willow bought the Skull Mask of Durda. Willow had felt very proud that she bought the Mask
with her own hunt money. She didn't know why, but some unknown need made her
want to show Buffy that she was a strong hunter.
Joyce-mom had put the Mask, wrapped
in a blanket made of bubbles, in a box that Willow had put in her shoulder bag.
She couldn't wait to get home and find someplace to put it. Though, she frowned
to herself, she needed a place to display it that wasn't Joyce's or Buffy's.
With a shrug, Willow put the thought out of her mind; she would ask Joyce-mom
what to do.
A tantalizing scent caught her
attention; though, it wasn't as attractive as some of the scents coming from
the animals cowering in their cages. Willow stayed away from the animals. With
Joyce-mom near, it wasn't time to hunt.
The scent led her to a display
that showed a picture of two animals - cat and dog, her memory
whispered. The cat and dog were smiling and their teeth were shiny. Below the
picture, a bowl held small green bones where the fresh scent was coming from.
Willow frowned when she couldn't find a price; reading prices was another
lesson Joyce-mom had given her.
Willow came to the conclusion that,
like the bowl of candy in Joyce-mom's gallery, that the green bones were
free. So Willow took one and put it in her mouth. She only took one, for
that was the rule that Joyce-mom had told her about the bowl of candy.
Chewing the green bone, Willow's
eyebrows rose in surprise at the taste and texture of the treat. It tasted minty,
and though it felt kind of rubbery, Willow found she liked how it made
her teeth and gums feel. Looking around, Willow was happy to see that there
were plastic bags that had green bones of different sizes, and there were
prices on them! Excited, she figured how much money she had left and happily
put several bags of each size in her basket.
As Willow made her way toward the
counter (where Joyce-mom stood talking to Todd) to pay for her purchases,
Willow made plans for when she went hunting later that night. After listening
to Joyce-mom and Jenny talk about how Willow could get money by selling her pretties
to a Fence - Willow was a bit confused by the name. Wasn't that what the
small walls around houses were called?-, Willow had decided then and there she
would find Willy's that night.
Before leaving on their walk, Willow
had shown Joyce-mom all of her pretties and asked how much each would
cost. She wouldn't sell them all. Willow wanted to save one piece from each
kill; she planned only to sell the ones that would give her the most money.
Looking down at the items in her basket, Willow thought to herself that she needed
more money… for she had developed a taste for shopping.
The song "Angels Fall
First" is by Nightwish.
Temptation
Full of desire
Temptation
Keep climbing higher and higher
Temptation
And you can take it or leave it
Temptation
But you'd better believe it
[yeah]
The two teens, Julie and David, cowered in terror at the eight foot tall growling monster that had them cornered against one of the numerous mausoleums dotting Sunnydale's cemeteries. They had decide to add a little spice to their sex life by doing it in a graveyard - they didn't expect to end up facing off against something that looked like the Creature from the Black Lagoon's older and nastier brother!
Then, suddenly, as the monster appeared ready to pounce on them, it stopped. Like a marionette with its strings cut, it collapsed to the ground with a startled grunt.
Julie and David shared a look of bewilderment and hope before turning back to the downed monster. It was at that moment the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, and its added illumination allowed them to see a rippling in the air above the creature's back.
In shock, they watched two eyes with red, glowing slits fade into existence, and a beastly face with horns appear. A naked female body soon followed. Julie elbowed David hard in the stomach when she heard David let out a sound of appreciation. She then held herself very still when the demon girl -that was the first thing to come to mind- tilted her head slightly to look at her.
The tableau held until the demon girl stepped off the monster she was crouching on and casually flipped it over onto its back. The display of strength astounded the two teens. When the demon girl rammed her clawed hand under the monster's rib, eliciting a breathy moan from the monster, the two teens decided it was high time to run for their lives.
Willow ignored the two humans as they ran away; she was far more interested in getting the powerful essence that she could sense within the demon. With a sharp tug, she ripped the still beating heart out, and, after sinking the claws of one foot into the ground, Willow sat back to enjoy her meal.
Essence.
The essence she got from this kill was the most powerful she had drunk since coming home. It still didn't match the essence from a single Nibble, though. It did make Willow happy when she noticed that the demon tasted better then the demons in Hell - just not nearly as good as Joyce-mom's cooking! Once Willow had gotten all of the essence out of the heart, she began eating it while she thought back to what had happened earlier in the day.
Earlier…
On the way home from the pet store, Willow asked Joyce-mom about a place of her own to put the Skull Mask up. Joyce-mom replied by asking if Willow would like a room of her own.
The thought of having her very own room made Willow very happy, but the idea of having to sleep alone again made her sad. Joyce-mom quickly assured her that Willow could sleep with her for now, but they would put a bed in Willow's room for the time when she felt OK about sleeping by herself.
Willow was so excited that she offered to carry Joyce-mom home. Joyce-mom laughingly said no.
When they got home, Joyce-mom showed her the room across from Buffy's. Joyce-mom explained that the room had been used for storage of stuff from when Buffy and she had moved from LA that was too heavy to get up the ladder to the attic.
As soon as she heard about the attic, Willow asked to see it. Joyce-mom had taken them back out into the hallway and pulled on a cord hanging from the ceiling, making a ladder unfold!
Willow followed Joyce-mom up the ladder, and what she saw made her smile very big. It reminded her of her cave in Hell (but nicer), and it had a breeze of fresh air blowing through small windows that were without glass in them. Vents… the name came to her from the depths of her mind.
It took Willow awhile to convince Joyce-mom, but in the end, the attic became her room! The first thing Joyce-mom had them do was to clean the whole attic. Willow had fun doing that. There were some boxes up there also, and Willow used them, plus the ones from the first room, to build a small wall with an opening in its center, blocking off a part of the attic. Though the wall only came up to her waist, Willow liked the effect, and Joyce-mom said they could hang some curtain across the top to give her more privacy.
Willow was able to fit several tables and chairs from the first room through the small opening that led into the attic. Over the largest table, Willow - with Joyce-mom's help - hung the Skull Mask of Durda. The mask looked like a white and red demon skull with eight small horns radiating out of the top; the horns ended in miniature versions of the skull mask itself. On the table below the Mask, Willow arranged one pretty from each of the vampires she had killed.
She was very happy with the end result.
When it came close to dinner time, Jenny showed up with her computer. Even though Willow wanted to play with it, Joyce-mom made her wait till after dinner. Afterward, though, they set the computer up on the table in the dining room and turned it on, and Jenny explained to Willow that there was a secret word she had to type in before she could use the computer.
Willow thought for a long time and then it came to her. Not knowing how make the word, Willow told Jenny, "Buffy Willow Forever."
Jenny got a strange look on her face but typed it on the keyboard.
It didn't work.
Willow felt sad, but Jenny mumbled to herself about eternity on its side and type, BuffyWillow48, and this time it worked!
Jenny then tried to show Willow how to use the mouse and keyboard, but it soon became apparent that Willow was having a lot of trouble. Jenny told Willow that she had brought some teaching programs that would help Willow to relearn the computer. She asked if it would be OK for her to load them on Willow's computer for her.
Willow had told her OK.
It was while Willow watched Jenny load the programs, and Joyce-mom had gone off to wash the dishes, that Willow suddenly became aware that one of the buttons on Jenny's shirt had come undone, allowing Willow to see one of Jenny's cloth-covered breasts.
It made Willow feel strange. The feelings were like what she felt when thinking about Buffy, but not nearly as warm and fuzzy. This feeling was harsher… simpler.
After making sure Jenny wasn't paying attention to her -something told Willow not to be caught-, Willow slowly twisted her body so she could see more. With each breath, the flesh of Jenny's breasts would pull away from their cloth covering, revealing tantalizing glimpses to Willow's red, slitted eyes.
Willow didn't understand why she was feeling like this with Jenny. She had seen Joyce-mom naked and had felt nothing. Joyce was simply Joyce-mom.
As Willow continued to watch Jenny breathing, her own body began to feel very tingly. This time, though, the tingle wasn't in her head. it was a lot lower. After a particularly deep breathe by Jenny, Willow felt two points on her body getting hard, much to her dismay. She hunkered, hiding those points by pressing them against the top of her legs. But that caused a whole different wave of tingles.
Willow had to bite her tongue to keep her from whimpering out loud. She finally ended up staring at the computer screen, vainly trying to ignore the open shirt beside her.
When Jenny finally noticed the errant button and rebuttoned it, Willow didn't know if she should feel happy or sad.
Then Jenny started the first program, and Willow's attention was taken by the talking furry mouse on the screen. Jenny moved aside so Willow could sit in front of the computer and told Willow to do what the furry mouse on the screen told her to do.
As Willow followed the instructions, she sometimes felt as if she could almost understand the workings of the machine in front of her. There were moments when the furry mouse showed her how to do something, double-click, cut, paste, and new knowledge, beyond what she just learned, would open up to her. Yet, still Willow sensed there was a great deal she did not remember or understand. It made her feel very frustrated, and one of those times she accidently crushed the plastic computer mouse.
Willow immediately started tearlessly sobbing, horrified she wouldn't be able to learn anymore, but Jenny told her it was OK and gave her a small bag with several computer mice in it. Jenny then walked her through how to replace the broken mouse.
Willow stayed on the computer even after Jenny left and it got dark and was time to hunt.
A teary eyed Joyce-mom walked Willow to the back door. This time Willow wasn't leaving through the window - or naked. Joyce-mom had asked Willow to wear the short dress, and Willow was taking her shoulder bag to carry the pretties she was planning to sell. Willow also planned to put her dress in the bag when she left Joyce-mom's sight.
Present…
Standing up, Willow swallowed the last bit of the demon's liver, having finished the heart earlier. Before leaving her kill, Willow happily sliced through the demon's thick neck muscles, breaking the spinal column with a loud crack and removing the head completely. With a frown, Willow looked down at the demon's large head in her hands. It suddenly dawned on her that the ants at home were too small to eat the all of the flesh from the skull.
With a small huff of irritation, Willow started toward the tree across the street from the cemetery where she had hidden her shoulder bag. She instinctively carried the severed head upside-down to lesson any blood trail. Willow decided that she would ask Willy if there were any centipedes around when she went to find a fence to sell her pretties.
She also needed to find a small vampire to take to Willy's.
Elsewhere in Sunnydale…
Cynthia hurriedly rifled through the pockets of the man she'd just killed, looking for cash. As she did, she couldn't help snapping at her friend Paula, who had been complaining non-stop about her wanting to leave the Hellmouth. "Damn it, Paula, if you had seen that Hellmouth bitch ripping through Steve and the others… Shit, girl, she even made Brian go up in flames." Finding a couple of twenties, she stood up to face her friend. "You wouldn't be so fucking eager to stay here yourself if you'd been there."
Judging by the look on Paula's face, Cynthia had finally gotten the severity of the situation through to her - or so Cynthia thought until her friend turned to dust, revealing a dark-skinned beauty holding a stake in one hand. The stake that she had used to dust Paula.
Before Cynthia could react, she found herself slammed brutally against the brick wall behind her with the same stake digging painfully into the flesh over her unbeating heart.
Slayer.
Even though she had never run into one, Cynthia's demon recognized what was before her.
Giving the stake another painful twist, the Slayer spoke. "Now, why don't yuh tell me about dis demon from de Hellmouth you saw."
Cynthia let the two twenties drop to the ground; she had a feeling she wasn't going to need them now.
The song "Temptation" is by Cradle of Filth.
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