Evil Unleashed
For James. Always for James.
He stumbled on the tunnel while he was on his way home, keeping out of sunlight. There was a little hole in the dirt wall, and as he worked it with his fingers, loose earth fell away. Soft light spilled through from the other side. Without too much effort, he had made a opening big enough to crawl through.
The chamber was larger than he expected. He looked up at the beamed ceiling. Another abandoned building from Sunnydale’s past. It reminded him of finding the ring of Amarra. Tables were strewn with jewelry, statuary. He guessed it was his, now. Or maybe a museum’s. Joyce would have loved these things for her gallery. Was there a law of finder’s keepers? Obedience of the law was a fairly recent concept to him. But there were so many beautiful things, and surely one wouldn’t be missed. One lovely little trinket to take home to his girl.
His girl. He rolled the words around in his mind. Oh, he’d wanted it. But a part of him had never thought it possible, soul or no. He’d wanted to believe she loved him. Nearly convinced himself it was true. But to hear the words from her sweet lips. In a real way he’d come back to life that day.
It was getting late, and she’d be expecting him home. Home for supper, the vampire, the slayer and the Nibblet. Paradise.
He passed his hand over a table, laden with sparkling gold. Gold like his golden girl. He stopped at an amulet. It was simple, but exquisitely made. Ruby it looked, set in gold filigree. She’d like it. He picked it up from among the other objects. Dangled it in front of his eyes, holding the delicate chain in his fist.
And it spoke to him. “You’ll do nicely.” He screamed.
Buffy stared at the salad on her plate. She picked up the fork, poked at a piece of lettuce, and put the fork back down.
Her sister looked at her with concern. “Aren’t you gonna eat?”
Buffy returned the look. “Aren’t you?” She stood up and put her plate on the counter. “He’s never done this. Slept through supper, yeah. But not come home...?” She leaned back against the counter top. “So, isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to say, ‘big grown-up vampire, can take care of himself’?”
“Well I would,” Dawn sighed, “If I wasn’t worried myself. I think something’s happened to him.” She rose and put her arms around her sister. “I’m scared.”
Buffy held her tight. “I know he’s lasted a long time. I know he can take care of himself. But he was so fragile when he came back. And face it, one little piece of wood in his chest, and he’s gone.” She choked. “Dust. And we might never know.”
Dawn pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Then let’s do something about. Let’s go out and look for him.”
Buffy nodded. “I hate to do this to you, but can you stay here while I look?” Dawn glared at her. “No, not because I’m protecting you. In case he comes home on his own before I get back. Okay?”
Dawn nodded. “Okay. I don’t like it, but okay.”
Spike was in a dark place, pushed down into the depths and bound. He could hear a voice, booming around him, but not his voice. It was a harsh, cruel voice. An evil voice. Not the sort of thing he liked to hear anymore. He tried to call out, but his voice wouldn’t come. He was trapped, and he hated it. He just wanted to get home.
He knew the body was strong, slight but muscular. He knew he would enjoy it. What he hadn’t counted on was the overwhelming hunger, for what he didn’t know. He finally found a passageway out of the tunnel, and climbed out into the night air, gasping it back. Stars twinkled overhead in a black sky. He looked down from the little ridge but everything was unfamiliar. He headed for the town lights.
Buffy made Clem’s apartment her first stop. “Have you seen him tonight?” she asked hopefully.
“Sorry, Buffy.” He patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I bet he’s fine.” Clem bit a wrinkly lip. “But when I talked to him this afternoon, he said he was going to head straight home. Gee, now you’ve got me worried too.”
“I’m sorry, Clem.” She reached up and covered his hand with hers. “I don’t need us all to be worried. Just call my place and tell Dawn if you see him.”
Clem smiled, trying to be reassuring. “Will do.”
He wasn’t alone in this body. He knew that. The other occupant was shoved so far down he would be no threat. But there was another here, a strong force. He sensed instinctively that he would have to allow it to work in tandem with him, or the body would die. But it was willing to cooperate. And it was hungry.
“Hey, Spike!” Xander called. He wasn’t ready to call the vampire friend, but he was doing his best to be sociable for Buffy’s sake. He wasn’t happy that she had fallen in love with her once enemy, but he really was trying. He watched in surprise as Spike picked up a newspaper box and threw it through a store window, laughing as the glass shattered. Xander grabbed his arm. “What’s with you?”
The vampire turned to the young man, and without a word, threw him against the side of the store wall. Xander crumpled to the ground, unconscious. The creature continued down the street.
Spike tried to move, but he couldn’t. He realized that he couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t even lick his lips or wriggle his nose. Nothing connected.
Until the blinding pain that was too familiar. It made no sense. He’d done nothing to set off the chip.
Buffy tried to cover Spike’s usual haunts. He wasn’t in the cemetery, wasn’t at the Bronze. The tunnel system under the town was so extensive, she knew she’d never cover it by herself. And what if something had happened to her lover? What if there was nothing left to find? She tried to force the thought from her mind, and set her face with grim determination as she continued her search.
Willow and her date were walking home from the movies, window-shopping along the main street. This was only their second evening together, and Willow wasn’t sure how to react when the other woman slipped her hand in hers. She decided to relax and enjoy the sensation. Sharon was a very pretty girl, shorter than Willow, with long strawberry blonde hair. “Want to get a coffee at the Expresso Pump before they close?” she asked.
“Decaf.” Willow smiled. “Classes in the morning. You know. Wouldn’t pay to be all jumpy.”
“Good point.” Sharon squeezed her fingers. “Herbal tea for me.” They walked together down the street in silence, hands swinging a bit between them.
Willow spotted a familiar face. “Spike! Hi.” The creature walked toward them, slowly and deliberately, without a word. He was right in front of them now, and Willow was confused. “Something wrong, Spike? You’re awful quiet.”
The smell of blood was overwhelming. Suddenly, it came together. The feeling of hunger, the desire. Shifting into the demonic visage, eyes glowing yellow, he reached for the shorter woman and plunged his fangs into her throat, drinking deep. By the time the shocked Willow could react, he had dropped Sharon’s lifeless body to the ground, and was turning towards her. “Repel!” Willow screamed, and the vampire’s body hurled across the street. He looked up, decided the young woman was not worth the trouble, and ran off into the night.
Willow stood shaking, energy crackling from her finger tips. She had come so far, and knew that months of work in controlling her power had fallen apart, but she pushed all thoughts of herself from her mind. She knelt beside her friend, but the woman was dead. Spike was a killer again. Spike was evil.
Sharon was dead.
“Anyanka,” she shouted. Instantly the vengeance demon materialized beside her.
Anya looked down at Willow, crying beside the young woman’s body. “Oh, God Willow. What happened here?”
“It was Spike. I knew. I knew we couldn’t trust him. He must have gotten that chip out.”
“But, he has a soul. And Buffy. He wouldn’t...”
“I saw him do it. It’s Buffy’s fault for letting him stay. For making him one of us.” Willow’s face was set. “I wish...”
“Willow, no.” Anya went pale.
“I wish Buffy would kill him for killing Sharon.”
Anya’s face shifted into a veiny, desiccated demon form. Against her will she said, “Wish granted.”
It was agony. Spike had never felt such pain. He slipped out of consciousness.
Anya materialized next to Buffy. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“What?” She felt a chill down her spine. “It’s Spike, isn’t it? Something’s happened to Spike.”
The two women turned at the sound of groaning. Xander was lying against the side of a wall, trying to push himself up. “Buffy,” he moaned.
His friend tried to support him. “What happened, Xander?” She pulled away her hand from the back of his head. Her palm was covered in blood. “Did someone hurt you? Who did this?”
“Spike.” He blinked his eyes, trying to focus. “He’s bad, Buffy. He’s...” The young man passed out again.
Buffy knelt beside Xander, staring at her hand. “No. It isn’t true. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”
Anya put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “It’s true. He must have gotten the chip out. He killed Willow’s friend.”
“No.” Buffy stood up, swallowing back tears. “There’s a mistake. There has to be.”
But Anya turned her head, looking at the familiar blond figure approaching them. “No mistake.”
The creature stalked towards Buffy, a wide grin on its lips. The face was distorted with the vampire’s features. The mouth opened, revealing long, dangerous fangs. It roared.
Buffy froze. “I can’t.”
“You have to,” Anya insisted. “You’re the Slayer.”
“I’m sorry, Spike.” At the monster’s advance, she pulled the stake from her pocket, preparing to plunge it into its chest. The tears poured down her face. “Oh, god.” But as she looked into its eyes, she smiled. “It isn’t him, Anya. It isn’t Spike. He isn’t there.” She kicked against the figure and it flew into the road. “It’s a shapeshifter. Or a vampire that looks like him.” As it rose, she kicked it again, dropping it to the ground and straddling it. “It’s not Spike.” She wound back with the stake, preparing to plunge it home.
“It is.” Anya realized something was wrong. “It is and it isn’t.”
Buffy’s hand was suspended above the creature. “It has his soul. It’s faint. So faint. But it has his soul.”
As Buffy hesitated, the creature reached up and circled her throat with its hands, squeezing with preternatural strength. As she started to loose consciousness, she brought the stake down.
And froze. Anya surveyed the tableau on the ground, vampire and Slayer. “Something is very wrong here.” She stepped closer to the pair and knelt down. For the first time she noticed the pendant hanging around Spike’s neck. “Oh, for goodness sake. I should have known.” She took the stake from Buffy’s hand, then stood up, moving back a few yards. “You. Get out of there. You don’t belong there.”
The ruby in the pendant exploded, as a huge, lumbering red monster appeared beside Spike. Its eyes narrowed as it surveyed the vengeance demon, preparing to strike.
“You have got to be kidding,” Anya said. She vanished as Buffy resumed motion, banging her empty fist into Spike’s chest. He was unconscious, but she wasn’t, as a growl beside her made her turn to see a particularly ugly and fierce demon bearing down on her. She jumped to her feet.
She kicked it in the chest, and it stopped its approach, but didn’t fall back. “My, my. You’re a big one, aren’t you?” Buffy exclaimed, as she grabbed its arm. “But, the bigger they are...Oh, god, I can’t believe I said that.” She stationed one leg behind its knee, and tried to flip it. “I’m mad now. Making me talk in clichés like that.” The creature wavered a bit, but it didn’t fall.
“You are the Slayer,” it growled, hot breath on her neck. “I will kill you. The body was strong, but I am stronger, now.”
“No,” Anya replied, suddenly appearing behind the monster. “You won’t.” She tossed Buffy a jade hilted sword. “Left eye,” she called.
“Thanks.” Buffy rammed the sword into the demon through its eye socket, and the blade protruded out the back of its head. The face shattered, leaving a large, red and messy body behind. “That thing. That thing was...in Spike?”
Anya looked down at what remained of the monster. “Oh, good. It’s a male. Willow said ‘him’, and if it was a her it would have gotten very complicated.”
Buffy dropped the sword to the ground. “What the hell was that thing?” Before Anya could answer, Spike moaned and Buffy was instantly at his side.
She supported his back as he tried to sit up, holding his head. “What...I was...there was a cave; a room...I got lost.”
“You aren’t lost,” Buffy said, hugging him close. “You’re safe now.” She looked up at Anya. “He is, isn’t he? Safe now?”
“He should be fine.”
“My head.” Spike blinked back residual pain. “The chip. Did the chip go off? What did I do?” His eyes took on a panicked expression, and he pushed Buffy away. “I taste blood. In my mouth. Human blood.” He coughed, trying to spit out the taste. “What did I do?” He huddled on the ground, his arms around his knees. “What have I done?”
“Well,” said Anya, crossing her arms, “technically you didn’t do anything.” She pointed at the demon’s body. “He did.” She knelt beside Spike, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Did you happen to pick up a pendant today? Looked like a ruby?”
Spike nodded. “I thought Buffy would like it.”
“She certainly wouldn’t!” Anya exclaimed, standing up. “That wasn’t a ruby, you know. It was a R’shnk’v demon in stasis.” She realized Buffy was staring at her. “Must have been contained by a wizard. Only way it can break out is to possess someone. I’m sure he thought he hit the motherlode with Spike. Vampire strength, nice pointy teeth...Just the thing to wreck havoc.”
“I don’t understand,” Spike muttered. “I was possessed?”
“You have been listening, haven’t you? I did just explain it. The demon possessed you, beat up Xander, killed Willow’s new little girlfriend...”
“I...I killed someone?” This time he didn’t resist as Buffy held him.
“No, you didn’t. Well, your body did. But that had nothing to do with you. That was the demon. Which, I suppose, did work with your demon, but I don’t see how anyone could blame you.”
“I could,” said Xander, struggling to his feet.
“So could I.” Willow was standing on the sidewalk, glaring at Anya. “What about my wish?”
The vengeance demon sighed. She was so tired of explaining things. “You wished Buffy would kill him for killing your friend.” She gestured to the remains of the demon. “That’s him, and she killed him. Wish granted.”
Buffy held a crying Spike tighter, her eyes full of pain as she looked at Willow. “You wished I would kill Spike? I mean, that’s what you meant, isn’t it. How could you?” Willow looked away. “You wanted me to kill the man I love. That’s so sick, Will. So cruel.”
Xander staggered beside Willow. “He’s not a man. He is dangerous. Maybe he didn’t mean to kill that poor kid, but it was his body. His teeth. We can’t trust him.” He stumbled, and Willow moved under his arm to support him.
“Maybe they’re right.” Spike’s voice was quiet, defeated.
“No,” Buffy stated, her voice growing cold with anger as she glared at her friends, “I don’t think Spike’s the one I can’t trust.” She helped him to his feet. “We’re going home.” As they started to walk away, she paused and looked back at Anya. “If it had been Spike, would you have done it? Made sure that I killed him?”
“It would have been my job.” Anya met her stare full on. “Wouldn’t it have been yours?”
Dawn was delighted when Buffy walked through the front door with Spike, but was startled when he stiffened at her embrace. “I’ll explain later,” Buffy said, helping him up the stairs.
Against his protestations, she undressed him and tucked him under the comforter. “Can I get you a bag of blood?” she asked. “You look like you could use something.”
“No thanks,” he sighed. “I’m not hungry.” The meaning of the words hit him, and he was horrified. “Oh, god...”
Buffy lay on the bed beside him, stroking his curls with her fingers. “Repeat after me. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything, except try and bring me a nice present. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Buffy? What if it had been? What if I had given you cause to stake me?”
She draped her arm around his chest and snuggled close. “Never happen.”