New Reign - Act 4
In the din of the darkness — a cough and a splutter. All heads, human and not, turned to the sight.
She stood upon the table near the bar. “Listen up!” she tapped her stake on a whiskey glass making it ring. “I don’t have to tell you what’s goin’ on out there.” She looked from one face to the next as they just stared at her with criticism and enmity. “I don’t have to tell you – because I can show you.”
Addison grabbed the shirt collar of the gasping rat-creature and shoved it forward into the midst of the tables. The Nosphorus collapsed to its knees, bleeding and snarling. Several of the demons at the surrounding tables stood and recoiled, the vampires, too, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the infection.
“This is what’s going on out there. By the hundreds. And they’ve infected humans... by the thousands.” Several of the demons bared their teeth and glared at her. She continued. “And that’s just in this city. The same is happening all over the world.” The vampires exchanged almost worried glances.
“Why do you bring that in here?” one of the demons snarled, fearlessly kicking the Nosphorus in the ribs.
“You all know who I am,” Niki said fiercely, gripping her stake until her knuckles were white. “And at one time or another, I expect we’ve all run into each other—” There were some leers and gruff laughs. “But— dammit, this isn’t the time to fight each other!” With lightening reflexes, she whipped the stake across the room where it stuck into the wall near the ear of a surprised vampire. “This thing will crush you — all of you, no matter what you think... and I can’t stop it.” There were more glances exchanged in the darkness. “Not alone.”
With a sudden uproar, a big burly demon rose from his chair and gave his table such a kick that it shattered to matchsticks. “What is this?” he demanded in a deep voice. He pointed a thick, accusing finger at the Slayer standing on the table. “You think you can come here – speak to me like this?” He took a lumbering step forward and drove a twinge of doubt into the Slayer’s mind. “My father was killed by your predecessor– that’s all her kind knows,” he addressed the other demons around the Nail Biter, “killing our kind. She cannot be trusted!” There were nods and growls of agreement from around the darkness.
Niki nodded. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I can’t be trusted. For all you know, I’m ready to line you up and cut all your heads off.” Some of the vampires tensed. “And even if I can be trusted, the Council I work for certainly cannot. They would jump at the chance to slaughter the whole bunch of you—” Addison took a step forward and reached into his long coat, making some of the demons nervous. “And everyone else that works for them,” Niki continued, “rogue demon hunters, paramilitary operations, and every Slayer after me... They’d love to see you wiped off the face of the Earth.”
The big demon nodded with a snarl. “You see? She’ll kill us all.”
“I won’t have to,” Niki cut in, hopping off the table and setting her whiskey glass down. “All I have to do is sit back and do nothing.” She walked carefully towards the big demon, gazing intently at his small beady eyes set between thick, stubby horns. “Sit back and watch the Creep march his army through New York City - through the whole state, eventually wiping this country, and all the rest, off the map.” She was very close to him now, close enough to see his working jaw, smell his obscene breath. “Nothing would be easier... just sit back and watch his kind–” she took the Nosphorus by the collar and pulled it between herself and the demon who recoiled, “–destroy this world and build a new one.”
She dropped the rat-creature and sat herself down on the edge of one of the tables. “Oh, you’ll love the new world– those of you who survive to see it, that is. All the humans you can eat... uh, if there are any left once the Plague has run its course, that is. You won’t have to hind in the darkness,” she made a shifty gesture imitating a fearful demon, “no way! You’ll be a big part of the new world... well, a big slave part. But that’s something, right?” There was nothing but silence now from the big demon and from all the creatures around him.
“The truth is,” Addison stepped forward, pulling a small sack from his coat, “the Creep isn’t going to go out of his way to see that any but his army survive to the New Reign. And when he wakes the Old Ones, well...” he shook his head with a wry smile, “you’ll be damn lucky if you wind up as more than fashionable coats.” After a poignant pause, the old man overturned the sack and dozens of silver bracelets clattered to the tabletop.
“The Council promises each and every one of you leniency if you fight for us,” Niki raised an eyebrow. “See if you get a deal like that from the Creep.”
One of the vampires sneered and strode forward. “We don’t need her! She said it herself - she can’t beat them. If we stand on our own, we can—”
“We can’t,” one of the other vamps said sullenly. “Steels and his whole crew: they stormed the airport - had more muscle than even she could handle... they were slaughtered.” The vamp stood and crossed his arms. “I think we should just let this whole thing take its course—”
“Shut up, Hauser,” the first vampire scoffed. “You’ve made your point.”
“We all know we can’t fight them alone,” a new voice said from behind the bar, “but we gotta fight.” Whistler shrugged. “She’s killed more of worse, I say with her on our side, this Creep don’t stand a chance.”
There were a few nods around in the darkness. The vampire who had spoken against Hauser shrugged his shoulders in one last gesture of defiance. “What great help can she and the Council give us?”
Addison raised an eyebrow. Turning briskly he made his way to the door. As it opened, thirty men in black body armor and night vision helmets, carrying fully automatic machine guns filed in, taking strategic positions around the Nail Biter. Red laser sights crisscrossed the thin smoke that filled the dim room.
The old Watcher gently closed the door. “Any more questions?”
The big demon with the beady eyes grumbled and took a lumbering step forward. With a resentful sigh, he snatched one of the silver bracelets off the table and glared at it. IXI. “How do these things work?”
Addison grumbled to himself as he strode down the path of Central Park. Send him to do all the hard work. That must have been Niki’s idea. Enlist the enemy, sure... Enemy of my enemy and all that: sure... The old man puffed as he made his way towards the particular corner of the park. Several joggers blew past him with little grins. Oh, shove it, the Watcher thought.
He stopped by the boulder to catch his breath. The sun had set and before long a kind of mist began to pour out of the boulder, as if it had suddenly become tremendously cold. Addison’s hand pulled off it, just in case, but he knew what was going on.
“Before you attack,” the Watcher said to the demon he knew was there — somewhere, “I have a proposition for you.” He began to back up and felt the tree at his back. There was a movement of... of the very space around the boulder. It was a low hiss. Addison stared into it, hard, trying to see what couldn’t be seen.
Suddenly a hand as dark as the night found his throat, lifting him off his feet and pressing him against the tree. The old man struggled for breath, finally drawing it and coughing out his proposition. “I know you’ve lost your knife,” he croaked. The pressure around his throat lessened a little. “I- I can tell you who has it: Help you get it back... if you fight for us...” The pressure around his throat was suddenly gone and the Watcher collapsed to the ground, sputtering.
Logan staggered into the Biter looking quite out of breath. Looking around, his confusion grew, but at the sight of Niki he relaxed a little. She was examining a deadly looking gun as several dozen commando type men chatted and nursed beers. The usual Nail Biter customers were nowhere to be found.
“Where’ve you been?” Niki said with a grin. “You’re missing all the fun.”
“Is ‘fun’ what happened to the apartment?” Logan retorted, a little shocked at her casual attitude. “The place was completely trashed!”
The Slayer shrugged. “We’ll get him back for that. How was London?” She lifted the gun in a mockingly threatening movement, then did it again and again.
“Full of Englishmen,” the man in the turtleneck replied, finding a stool and sitting, “some of whom needed a good torturing.” Niki was nodding.
“Did we ever find out who R was?” she practiced drawing her machine gun in the mirror as if it were a Colt revolver.
Logan shrugged. “Jack the Ripper for all I know. He never showed his face– I’m guessing he’s had access to the Book of the Nosphorus, since he had tables ready when I got there.”
Niki popped the clip from the gun and slid it back in with what could only be described as glee. “This thing is so cool. I know what I want for Christmas.”
“An MP-5K?” the leader of the military unit stood up from behind the bar with a bottle of amber liquid. “Personally I’d go with something made in America– but I just shoot who I’m told to shoot and with what I’m told to shoot them.”
“Good motto,” Logan shrugged, nodding as the man poured him a drink. “I’m Logan, by the way.”
“Lieutenant Keller, with the Initiative Against Paranormal Activity.” The lieutenant poured himself a drink. “You said everything went well in London?”
Logan nodded. “Though I’d guess everything isn’t going so well here: My flight was diverted since there was no response from JFK air traffic. I had to take a taxi from Newark.”
“Yeah, we figure the Creep’s made a home for himself in freight storage.” The lieutenant raised his glass and clinked it with Logan’s. “We’re coming up with a plan of attack.”
Logan looked from Niki to the lieutenant. “Attack? You’re telling me you’re going to fight these guys all-out?”
Niki let the laser sight play over Logan’s black sweater. “Not just us... we’ve got quite a little band of merry men growing here. Where do you think the regulars are?”
Logan eyed the empty tables and stools, then the men with machine guns. “In body bags?”
“Recruiting,” Niki corrected. It took a stunned moment for this to sink in for the small claims lawyer.
“You’re shitting me,” he said bluntly.
“I shit you not,” Niki argued, drawing the weapon again, as if in a Western gunfight. “It’s in everyone’s best interests if the Creep goes down.”
Logan blinked. “And Addison went for it?” He looked around the whole bar– “Am I in the Twilight Zone again?” The laser light made figure eights over Logan’s forehead as Niki whistled the tune.
“We’ve picked our field,” Keller broke in, pulling the military map he had brought from behind the bar. “Atlantic and Fountain Avenue. Wide enough space for hand to hand combat, lots of building for snipers and spotters.”
“Well, Conduit Avenue – that’s a perfect channel to march an army from JFK,” Logan agreed, examining the map, “but what’s so special about Atlantic?”
Niki’s preexisting grin widened. “It’s what’s living under Atlantic Avenue that’s special.” Logan thought about this for an instant and then nodded.
Keller emptied the last of the bottle into his glass, then went hunting behind the bar for more.
“We’ve got one more thing up our sleeves,” Niki said in a low voice, taking Logan off his stool and leading him out of earshot of the commandos. “One thing you’ll need to help with.”
Logan nodded. “Anything.”
Niki’s eyes shifted around the bar. “One of the conditions of getting these guys to fight for us...” she began, reaching into her leather jacket and drawing out the small bag Addison had earlier filled. “We’ve promised to protect the vampires from the infection – so I need you to put some kinda hex on these,” she pulled one of the silver bracelets out of the bag, “that keeps the wearer from getting the infection.”
Logan noticeably sagged. “Oh that’s it? Why couldn’t you make it easy: End world hunger... Clean up the East River...”
“You’re saying you can’t do it?” the Slayer frowned.
“My skills are kinda limited to assault and defense,” Logan looked as disappointed as she. “You want healing, talk to a Wicca...” To her pleading, puppy-dog eyes, he sighed and took the bag. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Surrounded by Harley Davidsons and their massive occupants, the Nail Biter regulars felt very insignificant. A parking lot had never seemed so threatening.
“Hell, we don’t want no trouble,” the greasy vampire said appeasingly, “we were just asking...”
“Join you against the Creep an’ his army?” the burly biker laughed out loud, his big belly jiggling inside his leather vest.
“N- not just us,” the vampire stammered, looking nervously from one biker to the next. “Th- the Slayer’s getting everyone that’s still free together. We’re raising an army.”
“The Slayer!” the lead biker roared, his bike rumbling as if she too were enraged at the idea. “You weasels ally yourselves with that bitch?” Several of the bikers rose from their bikes, reaching into their jackets to retrieve chains, knives and other instruments of pain. “Well, that’s worthy of a beating. Eh, gentlemen?” There were grunts and snarls from the other vamps as their faces transformed.
“It’s not what you think,” the recruiter argued, standing up for himself. “She came to us. Once the battle’s over– we’re all planning on killing her, if the Creep don’t do it first.”
The lead biker raised his hand and stayed the severe beating. “You’ve got out attention.”
The greasy vamp puffed up his chest and set his jaw. “This will be the biggest group of vampires in the city’s history. You think she can take all of us?”
The bikers thought this over. Finally, the lead biker’s hog purred her consent as if possessed. “What d’you say gents?” the lead biker grinned. “Do we want a piece of that action?”
Niki rapped sharply three times on the door of the posh loft. The Initiative Against Paranormal Activity had a relatively good intel network and had managed to scope out high concentrations of what it called ‘Paranormal Activity’.
“Evening,” Niki said politely as the pale figure in black opened the door a crack. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in—” the door closed firmly in her face.
The Slayer blinked. After a moment, she knocked three more times. The door opened a crack again and the same face glared at her. “I really think you should consider—” The door closed even faster this time and there were the sounds of locks clicking and a deadbolt sliding into place.
Niki took a deep breath. With a clenched fist she pounded on the door continuously until motion could be heard within. “Open this damn door or I’ll bust it down.” She gave the solid door a very solid kick. “You know I can”
There was a moment of silence after which the door clicked and opened a crack again. “You have five seconds,” a thin serpentine voice informed her.
“Do you want a chance to kill some seriously evil vampires, rid the city of a threat to your lifestyle and guarantee your immunity from all Council attention... indefinitely?” She inhaled sharply to emphasize how fast she had been forced to talk because of his ultimatum.
The face at the crack of the door frowned, the rings piercing his face shifting. “What’s in it for us?”
Niki’s teeth ground together. How about: I won’t dust you here and now? she thought with annoyance. “What do you want?”
“I’ll have to confer with my colleagues,” the face replied. The door closed and remained closed for several minutes.
Niki sighed and leaned against the opposite wall. It was clear that the Goths already knew the situation and were probably preparing some sort of surgical strike operation of their own - doomed to failure with their numbers, but noble nonetheless. Just when the Slayer was convinced they were never going to open the door, she heard the click and the door opened a crack yet again.
“We only want one thing,” the Goth said with the hint of an evil grin.
“I’m listening,” Niki crossed her arms. This should be interesting.
What a sight. Niki breathed in the decidedly foul smelling air. It was quarter past three in the morning. On both sides of the street outside the Nail Biter, demons and vampires were jostling each other and getting into petty fights.
“Well, lieutenant,” Niki said with a breath, “it looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.” She swallowed. This was the largest gathering of demons and vampires she had ever seen. The ones here were actually in line to get into the Nail Biter where they were being matched with weapons and Logan’s ‘enchanted’ bracelets. More were already on their way to the shelters where they would spend the day waiting for tomorrow night’s battle.
Keller shrugged. “It could be worse.” With no followup explanation, Niki turned to him and frowned.
“How?”
The commando frowned, thinking. “We could have run out of scotch.” He took a deep breath and looked over his ragtag army. There was no count so far but it looked to be more than a thousand and groups of more than a dozen were still showing up every few minutes.
Niki observed the lieutenant’s flawless features and hard jaw line as he gazed seriously across the troops. She noticed with a pang of annoyance how much she had been staring at him and promptly looked away. As she did, he chanced a glance at her, shoving his hands into his black pockets to avoid doing anything foolish with them.
Behind the bar inside the Biter, Addison and Logan were working at getting the army ready for battle.
“Name and species” Logan asked tiredly.
“Hauser and vampire.”
Logan nodded, lifting yet another bracelet from the bin. Only the vampires needed them, since the demons couldn’t be infected with the Plague. That still meant hundreds of the damn things. Logan had spent most of the day conjuring them and the rest of the day perfecting a protection spell to put on them. With such time constraints, the ‘protection’ spell was really more for everyone else’s protection: if someone wearing one of the bracelets contracted the virus, the silver bracelet would melt through the skin of their wrist and enter their bloodstream as a liquid - lessening the effects of the virus, and eventually killing the infected. That, Logan decided, was preferable to slowly losing their army to the enemy’s control.
“Move along,” Logan advised as the vampire, instead of sliding the bracelet over his wrist, dropped it into his pocket instead. Hauser then moved to where Addison was handing out swords, knives, axes, stakes — everything that had been in the training room, considering the apartment had been completely emptied of anything useful.
Whistler pushed through the line with another armful of sharp objects to add to the pile behind the bar. None of the demons were being given weapons, unless they were particularly harmless looking.
“That’s the last of them,” the barkeep reported, taking a position beside Addison and handing out weapons as they were needed.
“There are going to be hundreds of unarmed vampires and demons,” Addison said with a frown. “I should have brought my entire collection–”
“No such thing as an unarmed vampire,” Niki said from the doorway. For the most part, the demons and vamps in the line beside her ignored her. Some probably didn’t even know who she was. “They’ll be fine,” the Slayer assured her old Watcher, coming around the bar just as the executive door near the far wall opened.
All heads turned as Diego lumbered out, wielding a wickedly curved scimitar. He paused mid stride at all the attention. “Family heirloom,” he dismissed. Without another word, he disappeared out the rear exit to where the weaponized demons and vamps were heading.
“You really think this is going to make a difference?” Logan said in a low voice as several demons passed by without stopping by him. Niki paced behind him, a million thoughts and troubles spinning in her mind.
“I’ll tell you what’ll make a difference,” she said candidly, “optimism.” Logan laughed once, a sound of accidentally pure amusement. “But seriously,” she went on, “if we kill the Nosphorus, then the infected people lose their will to fight. And if we kill the Creep, then the Nosphorus can’t organize.”
“The perfect vulnerability for the perfect army,” Logan agreed. “We’ll give him some hell he’s never seen before.”
“A better question,” Niki pondered, pacing past Addison to stand behind Whistler, “is will we win?” She crossed and uncrossed her arms as the demon in the fedora handed a stake to a rather ordinary looking demon. It was creeping up on her – the agitation, the uncertainty before a battle. “You got any ideas in your official capacity as barkeep?”
Whistler turned to her and lowered his gaze to the floor. After a moment, he shifted his gaze to the pile of weapons. He squatted down and retrieved something, standing up again to hand it to her.
To Niki’s surprise, it was not a weapon – at least, not the kind the others were getting. The small vial of white powder sat innocently in her palm. “This one of those big moments?” she asked, never taking her eyes from the enemy she had fought longer than the Plague.
“It wouldn’t be so terrifying if you didn’t see it coming,” Whistler turned and continued to hand out weapons as Niki stood as still as a statue, staring at what she knew might be the key to winning the battle – the key to winning the war. Was it difficult to look at because... was she being selfish not taking it? Was it for the greater good? Or was that just an excuse enjoy the sweet bliss of a relapse?
“All you need to do,” Whistler said with almost intense casualness, handing out weapons as if he were talking to himself, “is decide.”
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
