Buffy and Angel - episode 4: Flashpoint, part one: Hidden darkness
by corncobb
Previously on Buffy and Angel:
Angel and co. were rescued from Wolfram and Hart’s army by Buffy and her friends. The First has corrupted the new Slayers and is using them to commit murders. Willow found Kennedy but has been unable to reverse the First’s magic.

Kennedy still strained against her manacles. The skin on her arms was sore and bloody from her efforts, yet still she tried to free herself. Willow and Buffy had left her to her own devices, and she silently prayed to the First for aid.
Suddenly, the door of the basement swung open and Illyria walked in, her blue hair flowing as she strode.
“What deity do you pray to, little girl?” she asked.
“I pray to that which is beyond pain,” Kennedy intoned, “beyond darkness, beyond evil, beyond despair, beyond all hope and reason. I pray to the First.”
Illyria approached her slowly, inquisitively. “I know of this being.” She said. “It existed before I did, and yet in my time we did not worship it. We were above such petty ideas as ‘good’ and ‘evil’. We were our own gods, and we worshipped nothing but power. What power does this entity have?”
Kennedy faltered for a second, unsure of herself.
“It has the power to topple kings, to corrupt even the purest of hearts. It has the power to crumble civilisations that have existed for…”
Illyria interrupted her. “Has it the power to free you?”
The Slayer paused. “No.” she conceded.
“And yet you pray for it to do so? Why?”
“Because it is my god, and gods are to be prayed to.”
“A circular argument,” Illyria said, “presented by one who clings to her insipid faith like a limpit clinging to a sinking ship. Your god is weak. You are weak.”
Kennedy’s face became a savage snarl as was overcome with fury.
“You shall bow to the First in supplication!” she screamed. “You shall serve its every whim before it crushes you for your arrogance! It will swallow you whole and spit out what remains of your worthless soul!”
Illyria stared at her for a moment, like a scientist observing a rat in a maze.
“You bore me.” she decided at last. Then she turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

“This is dinky!” Buffy enthused, turning the bronze statuette over in her hands. “Was it made by those blind Tibetan monk guys?”
Giles took it off her and placed it back on the shelf behind his desk. “It’s an idol of the demon prince Yishtanga.” he said. “Not a New Age table ornament.”
He sat back down on the armchair in the far corner of the room. Buffy swivelled around on his office chair to get a better view of the statue.
“You gotta admit though, it does have that kind of retro charm. Like Bill Gates would keep one on his mantelpiece to make people think he was spiritual.”
Giles gazed at her blankly. “Bill Gates?” he enquired.
“The computer guy.” Buffy clarified.
“Ah, yes, him. May his soul forever burn on a lake of molten brimstone.” Giles opened an incredibly old looking book and began to read.
Buffy looked about the room, looking vaguely bored. After a while she turned her attention back to the statue. It was about five inches tall and resembled a creature assembled from various parts of a fox, a beetle and a Triceratops. She started looking at it from a variety of different angles, swinging about in her chair and leaning back and forth to do so. Giles looked up from his book, clearly distracted.
“May I enquire as to what you are doing?” he asked.
“I’m seeing if its eyes will follow me around like with them old paintings.” She replied.
“I see. And in what way does this aid me in my attempts to research the Firsts recent actions?” he tapped the cover of his book. It was called ‘Gornay’s Compendium of Ancient Evils’.
“It doesn’t,” Buffy admitted, leaning her elbow on Giles’ desk and resting her face on her hand, “I just figured you might like some moral support whilst you’re studying the writings of Groany.”
“Gornay.” Giles corrected her. “And I work best without err… commentary.” He returned to his book.
“That’s fine.” Buffy said, rising from the chair. “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“Actually, Buffy, perhaps you should remain.” He gestured for her to sit down again. “I’m expecting the others to arrive here shortly. I have some important news I would like to share with you all”
Buffy sat back down. “Any chance of a preview?” she asked eagerly.
“No.”
The door to Giles’ study opened and Willow and Xander walked in, closely followed by Angel, Gunn, Spike and Illyria. Willow and Xander sat at the chairs in front of Giles desk, and Angel and his group stood in the middle of the room. Spike turned to Giles.
“You rang M’lord?” he said, putting on a swanky accent.
Giles closed his book and looked up at the new arrivals. “Uh, yes. Gather round everyone, I have some important news.”
Xander turned to Willow. “Here’s where he says a loud of stuff I don’t understand.” He said, conspiratorially. “I’ll just nod and go ‘hmm’ at strategic intervals.”
“Good plan.” She said, giving him a thumbs-up.
Giles manoeuvred himself into the centre of the room and looked at them all in turn, holding the book up for them to see.
“This book was written in the year 1612 by a renowned demonologist named Isaac Gornay.” He said. “His most illustrious works were mostly misplaced, quite some time ago, and several of the extant tomes have been discredited for containing apocryphal information. However, the book I hold here is possibly his most renowned journal. It was extremely hard to acquire and was err… quite pricey, but the knowledge it contains may prove invaluable.”
Spike stared at him piercingly. “You gonna get to the point sometime today?” he asked petulantly.
“Um, yes. Yes I am. Last night, whilst perusing the chapter on sources of corruption, I discovered this passage.” Giles opened the book and began to read.
“’And there shalt be a perverting root, that spreads it’s blackness through every sapling. You shalt know it by its many faces, stolen from those flames extinguished. Its dark gift shalt mark the chosen, and they in turn will fall to its influence. It is the Alpha and Omega of the netherealms, the source, the poisoned well. But, great though it is, no evil is insurmountable. The Ritual of Razmarok will set you on the path of destiny and free those bound in the dark one’s thrall.’
“That’s all there is. The Ritual of Razmarok is contained within the volume’s appendices. It is rather esoteric, though.” He handed the book to Willow. “Do you think you can do this?”
She stared at the book in wonder for a moment, scarcely daring to believe what it said. Then she looked up at Giles and smiled. “Hey, you know how I love a challenge.”

The group parted ways then and reconvened the following evening, after Willow had studied the mysterious ritual. In the great hall of the manor the Octet stood, linking hands in a circle with Willow at their centre. Ethereal green smoke hung in the air about them, and the room was dimly lit. As her friends shared apprehensive glances Willow began to intone, with her eyes tightly shut.
“Razmarock, thou who art seer of devine fates,
Razmarock, thou who art weaver of the broken strands,
We pray to you in supplication, that we might share thy wisdom and be benefactors of thy benevolence,
We pray to you to help us in our hour of darkness,
We pray to you, almighty Razmarock,
Draw out the dark.
Kashalameth!”
For an instant, nothing happened. Slowly, Willow opened her eyes, only to see the faces of her friends look as perplexed as she was.
“Uh, did it work?” she asked.
Suddenly the room was filled with a blinding light. The voice of a chorus of cacodaemons poured from it like a swarm of locusts.
WHO DARES SUMMON THE WILL OF RAZMAROCK?
Willow squinted at the light, shielding her eyes with one hand and giving a cute little wave with the other.
“Hi.” She said. “That’d be me. I guess.”
YOU WISH THE HIDDEN DARKNESS TO BE PURGED?
“You betcha.”
IT SHALL BE DONE.
The room span around them, and faded away…

When they regained their senses they were on a cliff top in a desolate landscape. The ground was grey dust, as barren and lifeless as the moon. The plain stretching out below them was littered with jagged rocks. They looked all round, stunned.
“Magic.” Gunn muttered. “Never goes smoothly.”
“This isn’t right.” Willow said, half to herself.
Angel shot a scornful glance. “Gee, you think?” he said. There was real venom in his voice.
“Now, now.” Giles interceded, “Let’s not… bicker.” He was looking at a small object in his hand.
“What you got there?” Buffy enquired. “Some kind of magical trinket that’ll whisk us all back to Kansas?”
“Nothing so exotic.” Giles replied. “No, I’m afraid all I can offer you is my, um…” he trailed off.
“Yes?” Buffy prompted.
“Pocket watch.” He concluded, rather anticlimactically. He glanced out at the distant horizon.
Buffy stared at him. “Pocket watch?”
“What? Oh. It’s an old present from my father.” He held it out for her to see. “You see, you press the, the button on the side here and it…” The face of the watch sprang to reveal a secret compartment. Underneath was a compass. Giles grinned, quite amused by his ‘trick’. “You see? Marvellous.”
Buffy was incredulous. “And this helps us how?”
Giles looked about at the blighted landscape around them. “Well, it should help us navigate this… wasteland.” He raised his voice to address the rest of the group.
“I have a compass.” He said, “Assuming this place is somewhere on earth, or at least obeys the same gravitational laws, we should be able to search for signs of civilisation without fear of going in circles.”
Spike put his hand up. “One flaw in your plan, mate.” He said. “I see two places that might be worth checking out.” He pointed east. On the distant eastern horizon was a large, dark blur. “Could be a town is my thinking.” Spike said. “Course, it could also be a steaming great pile of demon poo, but we won’t know ‘til we go and look.”
“You said you saw two signs of civilisation.” Giles pointed out. “What was the other?”
“Well, didn’t see it myself. Big Blue here used her amazing demon senses to spot it.”
Illyria stepped forward. “There is a tower to the south, in the distance, too far for any of you to see.”
“Right then, I suggest we split into two groups…” Giles began.
“Well, that’s bleeding obvious.” Spike interrupted.
“Thank you, Spike. Two groups; one led by Illyria to investigate the tower and one led by me to investigate the town.”
As they spoke Xander sat on the ground, a few metres from the main group, rubbing his head. No-one noticed, except Willow who wandered over to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, Will’ just... a bit groggy.”
“I didn’t know you got travel sick.” she quipped.
“Ha ha. I just overdid it last night.”
Willow knelt down to look at him more closely. She brushed his hair gently. “You went out again last night?”
“Yeah.” He groaned.
“Who with?”
“Me.”
Willow chewed her lip in worry. Xander looked up and noticed.
“What?” he asked. His tone was defensive.
“Nothing.” She said.

In LA Lyndsey McDonald lay in the intensive care ward of the most expensive hospital in town. He was bandaged round his torso, and attached to all manner of life support and health monitor systems. The door to his room opened and a businessman walked in. He closed the door behind him and sat down at Lyndsey’s bedside.
“You’re from them, aren’t you?” Lyndsey observed. “Have they finally decided to off me? You here to finish the job Angel’s flunkey started?”
“Not at all.” The businessman said dismissively. “Allow me to introduce myself: I am the Black Rose, Dark Apostle of the Circle of the Black Thorn.”
Lyndsey grinned. “Yeah, sure you are. And I’m Muhammed Ali. We killed those mooks. Who are you really?”
“I speak the truth.” The other man said flatly. “I am the Black Rose. The Circle is being reformed and I have been authorised to recruit whoever I wish. That’s why I’m here. I want to make you an offer.”
Lyndsey’s grin grew wider.

Buffy, Giles, Spike and Gunn trekked towards the distant city-shaped blur. They came to a deep valley and, one by one, carefully slid down the first slope. As they slid, clouds of dust billowed around them and stones and grit rolled down the hill. Once at the bottom of the valley they stopped to rest.
“Is everyone ok?” Buffy asked.
They all nodded.
“Couple of scrapes from the grit but I’ll be fine.” Gunn said.
“Good, good.” Giles said, peering up at the opposite slope of the valley. “Right now I’m a little more concerned for the welfare of our absent colleagues. I’m beginning to regret letting them go with Illyria.”
“Why’s that?” Spike asked, confrontationally. “She’s not trustworthy ‘cause she’s not human enough for yer? Is that it?”
“I beg your pardon?” Giles asked, astonished.
“Ignore him.” Buffy said. “I’m sure he’s just moody because of our unexpected outing. I can’t take him anywhere.”
“No, no, he’s got a point.” Gunn said. He poked Giles in the chest. “I also noticed you took charge straight away. What makes you leader, just ‘cause you’re some upper-class white dude?”
Buffy stared at him, shocked and baffled. “What is wrong with you guys?” she asked.

Elsewhere Illyria, Angel, Willow and Xander trudged through the grey dust and grit, towards the distant and mysterious tower that only Illyria could see. They were walking along a narrow path around the edge of a cliff. To their left the cliff face rose, harsh and hard towards the empty grey sky. To their right the ground dropped away to dizzying depths. Willow peered over the edge.
“Sure is a long way down.” She said.
“Indeed.” said Illyria. “If you slip you will almost certainly die before hitting the ground. If the shock of falling does not kill you there are numerous jagged rocks jutting out from the edge of the cliff. Impact with them would most likely be fatal.”
“Hey, thanks.” Willow murmured. “That made me feel so much better.”
“Are we there yet?” Xander whined. His head was throbbing and his limbs were weak.
“No.” Angel muttered. “Stop whining.”
“We have an extensive amount of terrain to cover.” Illyria explained.
“You know, it sounds a lot better coming from you.” Xander said.
“Big surprise.” Angel shot back, “Is that because you’re still jealous of me, or because you have a demon fetish?”
Xander paused. “Bit of both.” he admitted at last.
“At least he’s honest.” Willow said. The defence sounded a little lame.
“Your affection for me is distasteful.” Illyria said. “It is akin to a dog attempting to mate with its master’s leg.”
“Hey!” Xander retorted.
“Leave him alone.” Willow said. “What’s wrong with you two?”
“Gee, I don’t know, Willow.” Angel began to shout. “Maybe I’m a little annoyed because you stranded us here in middle of NOWHERE!”
Willow flinched from his tirade. Xander leapt to her defence. “Back off over-bite!” he yelled. He shoved Angel away from Willow and the vampire staggered back. One foot slipped and Angel began swinging his arms, trying to regain his balance. An instant later he had disappeared over the edge.
“No!” Willow screamed. She dove towards the cliff edge to grab him, but it was too late. She waved her arms and was surrounded by glittering energy. Carefully, she stepped out into empty space and slowly levitated down.
Xander crouched at the edge of the path, and stared down into the unfathomable drop below, looking for any sign of Angel and Willow. There was none.

At that moment, in another world, in an old abandoned warehouse, a young woman named Persephone was stalking her prey. She was an attractive girl, with long red hair and was clad all in leather. She silently crept across the ceiling beams, sticking to the shadows, and stared down at the rag-tag group of people gathered below.
They whispered to each other, confident that they were alone and only wary of eavesdroppers from outside.
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing here?” one man asked.
“It’s not as though we have a choice,” said another, the group’s leader. “If we don’t stop these people the entire world will be in peril.”
“Can we trust our sources?” asked a young woman.
“We can trust them,” the leader replied. “They say the Blue Circle Corporation was formed several years ago as a minor subsidiary of Wolfram and Hart. They have a finger in every pie. Organised crime, weapons research, human experimentation, global political corruption, drugs development and distribution… you name it. We take out these guys, we put a serious dent in Wolfram and Hart’s Corporeal Sciences branch.” He smiled. “We could be about to save the world.” His smiled died on his lips. The others stared at him in concern as he began to gurgle and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. He collapsed to the ground, with a knife in his back. Behind him stood Persephone, the Vampire Slayer. She drew a sword.
“Nice party you got here,” she said. “Why wasn’t I invited?”
The rebels were cut to pieces in seconds. None of them had the combat skills to take on a Slayer. Very soon there were a dozen bloody corpses scattered across the warehouse floor. Only one man was left standing, the man who had questioned their plan. He gaped at the Slayer in horror and bewilderment.
“Persephone?” he asked. “It is you isn’t it?”
“I missed you too, Simon.” She cooed.
“Why?” he cried. “Why did you do this?”
“Because Its will must be done.”
She sauntered closer, sword brandished.
“So it’s true,” the rebel said, “It’s got you too.”
“Wake up, lover. The First has us all by the short and curlies.”
“Please don’t do this,” Simon stammered.
Persephone put a finger to his trembling lips. “Shh,” she said. “Close your eyes.”
Her former love did as she asked, and she grinned with pleasure as she ran him through with her sword.
And, unbeknownst to the forces of light, The First took one more step towards omnipotence.


To be continued…







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