Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy Book 1 Dusk: Chapter 8 Revelations
by Deacon Rayne
Chapter Eight
Revelations

“There’s Dusk,” Buffy said as she pointed to the young man reclining against his bike in front of the Bronze, “Looks all right,” she observed. Giles nodded assent and gently pulled the car over to the side of the street. Before shutting off the engine, he looked to Dusk for some signal that all was well. Dusk caught his look and flashed him a quick thumbs-up, Giles sighed, releasing a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, shutting off the car engine and getting out.
“How’s it look, Bro?” Buffy asked Dusk, walking towards him, Dusk shrugged,
“Not a soul in sight,” he checked his watch, “we are a few minutes early though,” Buffy nodded then gave the building a quick look.
“So are we breaking in and taking the stairs or are we fire escaping it?” she asked. Dusk gestured to the front doors.
“I’ve already unlocked them. Shall we?” Heading towards the doors, he turned and regarded his father wryly,
“Ready to meet the most famous vampire of all time?” he asked.
“Thrilled,” Giles responded dryly. Dusk chuckled and held the door for them as they entered.
They made their way through the deserted club, found the stairwell rooftop access and trudged up the stairs. A little quick shadow play from Dusk unlocked the door and they were up on the rooftop. Dusk inhaled a deep breath of night air.
“Well here we are, now what?” he asked.
“It would seem, that we wait,” Giles responded.
“Guys?” Buffy spoke up, a strange tone to her voice, both men turned to face her, “I don’t think we have to wait long,” she pointed up at the night sky. Confused, both men looked followed her gaze and stiffened when they saw it.
A long trail of green and white mist lazily curled through the air, it came down out of the sky and pooled opposite the three. The mist piled higher and higher onto itself, slowly taking on a more definite shape, finally, as if he were stepping out of a fog into clear view, Dracula stood before them. He bowed sweepingly,
“Good evening,” he noticed Buffy and his blue eyes danced with amusement, “How nice it is to see you again,” flashing her his most dazzling smile. Buffy, however had long since been immune to his charms.
“Pleasure’s all yours Count,” she retorted. Dracula chuckled and regarded the eldest of the group.
“Ah, the infamous Rupert Giles. Van Helsing of the modern world,” he bowed cordially, “I pay homage to such a learned man,” Giles, far from being flustered by the regal behavior rose to the occasion.
“As I pay respect to the vampire prince,” he returned, mirroring the Count's bow with a regal nod of the head. Dracula chuckled in amusement, for a moment ignoring Buffy to regard father and son.
“There is much of your father in you, young Alec Giles. Even without your demonic essence, I sense a great power,” his fangs flashed in that same display of predatory appreciation, “you would have made a formidable vampire,” All three of them narrowed their eyes at this comment. Dusk cleared his throat,
“I believe you had some information for us?” he inquired. Dracula conceded to the heavy-handed attempt at changing the subject with his usual unflappable grace,
“Just so, young Giles, what is it you would know?” Dusk gestured to Buffy, allowing her to speak.
“What happened to everything that was living in the sewers and caves before this?” she demanded. Dracula smiled unpleasantly,
“Alas, those that did not flee fast enough were made part of a larger whole. I imagine it was quite unwilling,” he informed her cryptically. Buffy frowned,
“What do you mean, ‘part of a larger whole’ are you saying they were killed?
A faint smile graced the Counts lips, “If they were vampires, were they not already dead?” Buffy growled in frustration and was about to speak when Giles interrupted her,
“What of the Key? Why does the Hellmouth fear it, Count Dracula?” He asked in a tone draped regality and cordiality, Dracula’s head inclined slightly in appreciation of the genial courtesy in his tone,
“Ah, so there IS one amongst you with some knowledge of proper decorum, this is good. Proof that etiquette truly is the purview of the elder” Dracula smiled appreciatively at Giles before continuing, “the Key, like any key, can serve two functions,” he held up two long, perfectly manicured fingers to signify this, “ it can unlock a door, or it can lock it. The Hellmouth, in some ways, is such a door. The Key could either open it, unleashing demonic wrath upon the world, or it could close and lock it forever,” the count finished, “ but this analogy only applies if you consider the Hellmouth as a door, such an analogy has its flaws, I’m afraid,”
“Why now, though?” Buffy interrupted, much to the Count’s disapproval, “Why is now so critical?” Dracula sighed patiently and spoke as if he was addressing a small, not terribly bright, child.
“Because now it has the energy to do so, energy that you provided,” he pointed a finger at the Slayer. Buffy leapt back as if stung,
“Me? What are you talking about? I haven’t done anything!” she replied defensively. Dracula chortled,
“Really? For over five years, you have been the most successful slayer in the history of the world; every manner of demon or vampire has fallen to you in combat. Did you really think that that would account for nothing?” He asked incredulously. There was something he wasn’t telling them, something he wanted them to figure out. Dusk reached it first,
“It’s been giving the Hellmouth strength hasn’t it? All those slain vampires and demons?” he answered quietly. Dracula clapped his hands together approvingly,
“Ah the blood of the Watchers has graced you with a keen mind, young hybrid,” Dracula laughed quietly, “to answer your question: yes, the slayer's astonishing success rate has given a steady diet of negative energy to feed from.”
“Negative energy?” Giles inquired, unfamiliar with the term, Dracula smiled indulgently,
“Yes, as opposed to positive energy. Call it life force, mana, vitae, it makes little difference. Positive energy is that which animates all life, from plants to people, and it is this energy that a vampire feeds from when it takes a meal. The blood is merely a method of conveyance. The sun is also a source of positive energy, though it is far too powerful to be utilized in the same fashion,” Dracula gestured to himself, “hence the somewhat volatile reaction a vampire has to the rays of the sun.” Dusk spoke up,
“So if positive energy is what animates the living, then negative energy…” his thoughts trailed off.
“…Is that which animates the dead. It is the power of darkness, of death and of the night,” Dracula finished. He raised a finger pointing to Dusk, “You, my friend, are such a creature, to some degree. The power that flows in your veins is not that of sun and life, but that of the night, of shadows and darkness.
“But Dusk can go out during the day without being burned alive,” Buffy interrupted, shaking herself out of her grim reverie. Dracula sighed and nodded indulgently,
“Yes because, despite this, he is still alive. His heart beats, his lungs breath, his blood flows in his veins. A vampire is a being powered entirely of negative energy, as are ghosts and most demons. A vampire that ventures into the sun is bombarded by its positive energy, which reacts violently to the vampires negative energy; this is what causes the vampire to combust upon being exposed to the light of day,” he smiled bemused, “please bear in mind, that this is a terribly simplistic view of things. However, I do not believe you are yet ready for the more comprehensive explanation.”
“So every time Buffy killed a vampire, its negative energy was released, to be absorbed by the Hellmouth,” Dusk finished quietly. Dracula nodded,
“Correct. Sunnydale, and to a lesser extent, all of California, has a most peculiar effect on the newly risen. Something happens to those vampires that are put to ground before they arise for the first time. Some sort of...infection, stains their minds and souls, rendering them vicious and beastlike,” Dracula smiled slightly, “well MORE vicious anyhow. In my homeland of Transylvania, the earth has power. It is fortified with the essence of the people there, their resilience, their…strength of heart,” Dusk thought he detected a hint of native pride creeping into the Count’s voice, “a vampire that hails from that region, may sleep in the earth of his homeland, and awaken rejuvenated.”
“The legends of vampires gaining power by sleeping in their native soil are true then?” Giles asked, Dracula nodded,
“To an extent, yes. The soil of my home possesses great power,” Dracula’s face darkened, “The earth here is…tainted, though. Corrupt, by the Hellmouth’s foul touch I assume,” a look of infinite disgust crossed the Count's features before he continued, “ The vampires here are unlike any other in the world, it is as if their demon has completely taken control, robbing them of their rational mind.”
“Isn’t that the norm for vampires?” Buffy asked sardonically. Dracula shook his head,
“Not necessarily, a vampire freshly risen is as a newborn child. It has no concept of right or wrong. The slate upon which was written its living moral code has been wiped clean. It knows only the hunger that wracks its body. For most vampires, this is cured with hunting down a human for food. Unfortunately, this ingrains a deep sense of amorality into the vampire, for once a newborn vampire regards humans as nothing more than food, so shall he ever regard them as such and thus, the vampire begins to grow and evolve along these amoral lines. THAT is what makes most vampires inherently evil. That one deed, in order to satisfy their appetites, eventually leads to the vampires eternal servitude to evil.”
Buffy frowned, clearly disturbed by what she was hearing, “So what you’re saying are that vampires that are born outside of California are nicer? She snorted in disbelief.
“That they are nicer: no, this is not so,” Dracula corrected, “Only that they are more balanced. Less disposed to one moral extreme or the other. I have known vampires that were greeted by their sires who brandished jugs of blood for them to sup upon. Once having done so, the vampire learns to differentiate between food and people. A vampire may still decide to kill for food, most do so, but it is at least aware that there IS a moral alternative. The vampires I’ve seen here are hence unaware of such alternative. They know only that in order to live, they must kill.” Dracula concluded.
Giles had grown a rather pasty white through all of this as some of his most base beliefs were shaken down to their very cores. Dusk turned to Buffy,
“Buffy, have you ever noticed that every vampire that comes out of its grave, their face has already undergone the change?” Buffy shrugged non-committaly,
“Yeah, so?” Dusk smiled grimly and turned back to the count,
“That’s not normal, is it Count? Vampires where you’re from, do not rise from the grave with their faces already distorted by the demon, do they?” Dracula smiled in obvious pleasure at the young mans perceptiveness.
“This is so, the face of a freshly risen vampire is as smooth as yours or mine, its first emotion is confusion, not demonic homicidal mania,” Giles cleared his throat.
“Let me see if I understand this clearly, Count: the Hellmouth corrupts vampires in their graves. Since a vampire already has predatory tendencies, it simply takes these tendencies and infuses them with demonic essence, triggering the change?”
Dracula nodded, “This is so,” Giles continued.
“And so when they arise, they immediately attack, because their first impulse, what has been programmed into their minds, is that they need to kill to feed,” Giles continued, he looked up at the Count of confirmation, the Count nodded slowly, Giles picked up his train of thought, “which means, that since the Hellmouth knows the Slayer is here and is usually waiting for them when they awake, it’s essentially convincing them to commit suicide, thus releasing the very demonic energy that animates it, the same demonic energy twists its mind,” he looked up at Dracula, “the same demonic energy that the Hellmouth itself, put into it in the first place,” Dracula smiled pleased,
“Thus does it grow stronger,” Dracula concluded. Buffy frowned.
“Wait a second, how can it grow stronger if it just animates a vampire that gets killed five seconds later anyway?” she asked perplexed. Dusk answered,
“Because by the very act of killing it, more negative energy gets produced. The same when you kill a demon or a person, when it’s slain, there must be some kind of resonance that finds its way back to the Hellmouth,” he turned to regard the slayer, “It’s a vicious cycle, Buffy. When a vampire kills someone, that energy, from the actual death of the living breathing person is released and absorbed by the Hellmouth, while the body is buried, the Hellmouth twists it’s mind, riling it up into frenzy, it emerges and instead of running away or trying to bargain with you, as I imagine most vampires would,” he turned to the Count to verify this, who only smiled enigmatically and gestured for him to continue. Dusk resumed, “you kill it, again sending more energy to the Hellmouth. In essence it’s getting TWO deaths from ONE person,” he turned his eyes back to the count, “and this has been going for how long?”
Dracula spread his arms in a grand gesture,
“Since time immortal, it is only recently however, that the Slayer’s success has reached such levels that the Hellmouth finds itself fully sentient and ready to free itself once and for all,” Dracula informed them.
“It’s been playing me, this whole time,” Buffy whispered disbelievingly, “It’s been getting me to do its dirty work, sending it more death to make itself stronger,”
Dracula nodded and smiled “Brilliant, is it not? If you slay the vampires, it gains life from their death, if you do not, those vampires kill others and the Hellmouth gains life from their deaths. Truly the Hellmouth possess a diabolical mind, but,” he held up a finger, “it has made a mistake, or rather it has taken a risk, because, though right now it stands at the threshold of ascension, it is also at its most vulnerable.” Giles scratched his chin thoughtfully,
“As it was in the case involving Mayor Wilkins, invulnerable until he transformed,” he commented thoughtfully. Buffy nodded, still a little dazed by the sheer scope of the Hellmouth’s deception. Dusk scrutinized Dracula,
“You said the Hellmouth was at its most vulnerable, how?”
“The Hellmouth does not exist on merely one plane of existence,” Dracula began, “In the beginning, it was resided mostly in the negative material plane, a plane of existence where there is only the energies of entropy, decay, and death, A so-called “demon dimension”. There it would feed, as the death energy from the prime material plane, this plane, this earth, would trickle down into the negative plane,” Buffy’s brow furrowed slightly.
“I don’t think I follow you,” Dracula sighed and tried again,
“Think of a weed, its roots deep in the soil, its stem and leaves in the air. When it rains, water falls from the air, and soaks into the ground, to be absorbed by the roots of the weed, yes?” Buffy nodded slowly, Dusk and Giles were both paying rapt attention. Dracula continued,
“Now picture that the soil is the negative material plane, where the roots of the Hellmouth lay, and where the stem and leaves grow from the earth is the prime material plane. Imagine also, that the Hellmouth is the weed. In the beginning, nothing more than a seed, but instead of rain; death, hate, entropy, decay, necromantic power soaked into its roots. The weed grew larger, more and more of it unearthed and climbed higher and higher into the sky, like a plant reaches for water. Over eons and eons, the Hellmouth grew, every unnatural death, every murder, every black hex cast, just more water to be soaked up and to make it stronger. Until at last, the weed is no longer so, but instead becomes vast underground network, with its roots stretched out across the entire state of California,” Dracula snorted quietly, “I imagine it’s had quite a feeding frenzy once it’s roots reached Los Angeles. ‘City of the Angels’ indeed,” Dracula waved a hand and continued, “With humans butchering each other in the streets, it would have grown quickly but still would not have reached maturity this soon. However, if HUMAN death is as rainwater…”
“…Then demonic and vampiric death is like Miracle-Gro to it, especially since it can influence how much it gets by riling up vampires into suicidal frenzy and it has no problem assimilating the vampires negative energy since it’s already had a piece of it in them since the get go,” Dusk finished. Dracula smiled and leered at Buffy.
“And what better tender of the garden, then the slayer? Who is bound by sacred duty, to provide it with what it so desperately needs: unnatural death of creatures abundant with negative energy,” Dracula finished.
Giles, Dusk and Buffy, looked mildly ill, but the Count's logic tracked clean. Themselves, the entire watcher organization, every bit of slayer lore had been twisted to serve the Hellmouth’s purposes. Buffy recovered first,
“So how do we stop it? She demanded. Dracula nodded and smiled,
“Ah, thus do we get to the heart of the matter. I will continue with my plant analogy. The plant has now reached maturity, so much so that it now has the capacity to influence things directly, it can kill on its own, no longer requiring the Slayer’s diligent ministrations. No longer like the Venus Fly trap, merely awaiting the arrival of the next batch of the Slayer’s kills, it has achieved sentience. It can think more clearly now, it can manipulate its surroundings, and it can manifest more directly.
“The sudden disappearance of everything living in the sewers and tunnels?” Dusk blurted out, Dracula nodded,
“I imagine that it is the result of the Hellmouth stretching its vines, opening its petals so to speak. However, this newfound freedom has not come without a cost, in order to do this, it has, pulled itself up by the roots, as it were. It can no longer draw substance from all that dies unnaturally; it must feed directly to gain the strength it needs to finally leave the underground. It must kill with it’s own ‘hands’ in a manner of speaking.
“So what you’re saying is that the Hellmouth isn’t getting its jollies from me sending it morsels anymore, it has to get its own before it can fully come into this world,” Buffy asked him. Dracula shook his head, remorsefully,
“No child, it has ALREADY fully entered this world. The Hellmouth has awakened and emerged, it writhes and grows under our very feet,” Buffy paled.
“But if it’s fully in our realm, that means…” Dusk shot a look to Buffy. Dracula smiled,
“That is correct: for the first time since its creation: it is vulnerable. For the first time in the history of the world, it can kill…and it can die. All it lacks is freedom from its underground prison, the freedom to move about as it chooses amongst man. Like locusts move amongst crops devouring all in their path and growing stronger for it. It cannot do so yet, its strength has not reached that point, it still requires one more element.”
“The Key. Dawn,” Dusk breathed.
“If the Hellmouth succeeds in consuming young Dawn, it will have all the power it needs to free itself and begin to devour the world, returning it to its demonic state,” Dracula replied. Dusks face went numb with horror,
“No, not for anything, not for the world, I’m not going to let it take her” he growled with a vehemence that caused odd looks to cross the faces of Buffy and Giles, Dracula just smiled, as if he was not surprised by Dusk’s behavior.
“However, all is not lost, for like the blowfish that serves as a meal, what it eats may kill it. Dawn contains the power to utterly destroy the Hellmouth, once and for all, but not alone,” Dracula held up three fingers, “three things of great power, three talismans as it were. Alone, quite powerful, but together with Dawn, they have the power to annihilate the Hellmouth. The first: a gem, whose location is known by no man. It is known only as the Everstone: that which balances light and dark. The second: the text, a benediction that contains no words, was written by no quill, and exists on no parchment in the world, yet contains the power of absolute light. And the third,” Dracula smiled slightly, “the most potent of all, the blood of the Neverborn, that which can defy the darkness,” Dracula closed his hand into a fist, “These three things, combined with Dawn, in the presence of the Hellmouth, will eradicate its taint from the prime material plane, and since it has already abandoned its home plane: it will simply cease to be.”
Buffy looked overwhelmed, her companions, not much better off,
“Terrific, so all we need to stop the Hellmouth from devouring the world is a stone that no one knows where it is, a prayer that was never written, and the blood of someone that was never born, and my kid sister who as we speak is probably throwing a temper tantrum to my mother about going to bed,” Buffy finished exasperated.
“Precisely,” Dracula replied simply earning him a withering glare from the slayer. “Beware though, Slayer” his tone turning dark, “the Hellmouth is not unaware that it is vulnerable, it is very much aware, perhaps for the first time since its birth. It can both hunt and kill; it commands the forces of rot, entropy, decay and death. All that is impure or corrupt answers its call, you must find these items, before the Hellmouth or its servants find you…or Dawn,” Dracula’s voice had lowered to an ominous rumble that filled Buffy with dread.
“Question,” Dusk interjected, “What’s in it for you? I mean, you’re still a vampire, surely you wouldn’t object to having your species being given free reign over the world once again?” Dracula straightened proudly, his voice regal,
“I love my people, young Giles, I love my homeland. I will not see the Hellmouth’s infernal taint rot the very soil that gives me life. I will not see it twist the land of my home as it has twisted the land of hers,” he pointed at Buffy, “and I will not see it twist the hearts and minds of the people I once fought and sacrificed so much to protect. The Hellmouth is an abomination. It must be destroyed, for the sake of my people and my home, all that is left that I love and cherish still, the Hellmouth must never bury its roots in the native earth of my home.” Dusk acquiesced the point with a nod.
“So, now what do we do?” Buffy asked, still sounding forlorn. Dracula considered,
“As to the nature of the prayer and the blood, I cannot help you, but to the stone I have a name: Grigori Estate, a name that has come to me only through much time and divination. There you should perhaps find a clue that will point you in the correct direction.” Buffy snorted,
“Terrific, where is it?” Dracula shook his head,
“This I do not know,” Buffy threw her hands into the air, exasperated.
“Well that’s helpful!” she sighed and was surprised that her hands came back down shaking. The full scope of what she was up against washed over her like a wave. She heard a whimper of fear, and was shocked to realize that it came from her. Instantly she felt two pairs of strong arms wrap around her, as the elder and younger Giles held her tightly.
“We can do this, Buffy,” Dusk whispered fiercely, his father nodding, also unwilling to allow the woman he’d come to love as his own daughter to succumb to despair.
“Indeed you can young warrior,” Dracula declared. “You are a light, Buffy, the light of all lights. You are a warrior who does not know death. And even as the Hellmouth’s strength grows, so too, shall your own.” Dracula shook his long mane of hair, “Do not forget that for every generation, there has been a slayer, the chosen one of the forces of light. You descend from a long and noble line of warrior-women. Cry out to them, and they shall hear you, my child,” Dracula reached out and touched Buffy’s hair lightly, Buffy started at the touch as Giles’ and Dusks’ arms fell away from her.
“I know this power is within in you, for I have nourished myself upon it, just as you have tasted the power that I possess. Never forget what runs through your veins. It is the blood of ages, young woman, the blood of noble crusaders and those who stood against the forces of darkness, beating them back with might and honor,” Buffy found herself entranced by his words, and within her, somewhere deep in her heart, she felt a spark of hope. She inhaled deeply, her back straightened from its defeated slump, and her eyes clear of despair.
“Thank you, ” she murmured softly. Dracula reached out to caress her face gently with the back of his hand,
“It is I, who should thank you, Buffy Summers, it will be you, that saves all that I love from this unspeakable evil,” taking her hand in his, he bent low and kissed it, before moving back, his fingertips lightly dancing against the skin of her hand. She had to stop herself from reaching out to him,” Dracula straightened to regard the two men,
“Protect her, gentlemen and protect her kin. Never forget that these women shall be the salvation of the world,” with a cordial nod to each of them, he turned and walked towards the ledge.
“Hang on a second,” Dusk detached himself from the rest of the group to confront the Count.
“You told me the other night, that I would receive answers tonight,” he shot a wary look to Giles and Buffy before continuing in a hushed tone, “you haven’t explained to me why I have these…feelings for Dawn,” The Count smiled enigmatically at him,
“Ah but you forget, young Giles, I said tonight you would receive answers, I never said to which questions though, did I?” Dusk’s face darkened dangerously and Dracula held up a placating hand,
“You will know what you must, when you must, young Giles, that will have to satisfy you for now,” with another regal nod he stepped up onto the ledge...and stepped into empty space, dropping from sight. Dusk rushed to ledge and peered over.
The Count was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Dusk pushed away from the ledge and headed back to the slayer and her watcher.


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