In every generation on every continent, there is a Chosen One. He alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. He is the Slayer.
The Arrival
The nightmares have gotten worse since Spike has arrived in Sunnydale. For three nights he has been tossing and turning in his sleep, and this night is no different.
He's in an underground cave, somewhere in Sunnydale. In the air hangs the stench of Evil, and the smell of Death. A light breeze carries him forward, towards a man in a strange, tight fitting black and blue outfit. In front of the figure is a strange vortex, a doorway of some kind, and the faint purple light illuminates everything in the cave. Now he's only a few inches away from the man, as he suddenly turns around. The face is hideous, as always, twisted and turned into a caricature of a mortal face. Before he gets the chance to run away, the man grabs him...
He's in the cemetery. From every grave rises a vampire, and he hasn't got enough stakes. They punch him, kick him, pound him, until he's nothing more than a small pile of human. The largest of the vampires lifts him from the ground and wants to bite him...
A book. Pictures of horrible creatures. Demons rising from the Earth. Stakes everywhere. Mutilated humans. A vampire with but one eye. A knight, fighting for his life to defend a gray old man, standing behind him. Fire, burning buildings, people screaming... And as always, the demonic laughter, the vampires with blood on their fangs, feasting on the mortals, killing at will. A strange three-pointed star, carved in flesh. Someone screams his name. "Spike! Spike..."
"Spike? William, for God's sake, wake up! You don't want to be late for school on your first day!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm up already! And I told you not to call me William, okay?" Spike yells back at his father.
Irritated, he gets kicks away his blanket and swings his legs over the edge of his bed.
"Man, what a great day to start on yet another new school. Just bloody great."
&&&&&&
"Well, here we are," John Snyder O'Donnell says as cheery as he possibly can when he stops the Mercedes in front of Sunnydale High School.
Spike gets out of the car and slams the door shut.
"How many times have I told you not to slam the doors! Okay, okay," John calms himself before he continues, "I'm sorry. It's just that it's as hard for me as it is for you. I don't know anyone here, just like you. So..."
"So I'll just go ahead, walk up to some friendly looking folks and ask them if they want to be my friend. Satisfied?"
What did I do to deserve such a stuffed father? Bloody Hell, we should've stayed in England!
John sees the all too familiar look on his son's face, and prays to God that the boy will someday appreciate what he has done for him. He looks his son over, noticing the subtle change in clothes from all black to partially black. Gone is the black heavy metal T-shirt, replaced by a white one. His son now wears a blue pair of jeans, instead of black ones. With holes in it, of course. And the worn-off black combat boots peek out from under the jeans. And, naturally, the ever-faithful black leather raincoat is still present. Spike even wears it when the weather is like this, thirty degrees Celsius in the shade. But hey, he's a teenager. A strange being with whom I have to share a house. At least until he's twenty-one.
"Good luck, William. I mean, Spike," John says sincerely.
The hard look in Spike's eyes softens and he says: "I'm sorry, dad. I'll really try. Good luck on your new job."
"Thanks."
Spike closes the door and watches the car drive down the street. Without further delay he turns around and faces the school.
"Here goes nothing."
&&&&&&
"Hey, watch it, man! I'm skating here!" a girl with purple and red hair, wearing a black leather tank top and pants, shouts as she makes her way through the school-going crowd.
Most teens immediately hop aside when they see her all too familiar appearance. The last guy that got on her wrong side wears a bandana to cover his blue eye, and still limps a little. One girl doesn't get out of the way soon enough, and gets knocked over by the electric guitar dangling on the back of the skateboarding girl.
"Just step aside, move along, coming through! Should've moved! Get out of the way people! Get aside, coming through... Whoa! What a hunk..."
Stunned by the handsome looks of a new guy walking to her right, the girl completely forgets to look before her, thus not noticing the guy with the blue jeans and white T-shirt right in front of her.
"Hey, look out!" the guy yells, and keeps his hands in front of his face.
"Oh nooo!" she cries, and smashes into the guy.
On the ground she struggles to get up as fast as she can. Seconds later both are on their feet.
"You know, you should watch where you're standing, Angel," the girl snaps at the quarterback.
"Well, if you wouldn't have been drooling over the new guy, you should've seen me walking, Cordelia," Angel sneers back.
"How many times have I told you not to call me that!" she yells, and raises her right fist.
The black gauntlet with metal spikes comes dangerously close to Angel's face.
"Come on, Talon," he emphasizes the name, "we're not gonna get unfriendly, are we? I'm sorry, I'll watch your step better next time, 'kay?"
"It would be wise of you to do so," Cordelia, lead singer of the band known as Dark Realm, threatens.
She shakes her fist in front of his face once more, collects her skateboard and guitar, and rushes up the stairs to Sunnydale High, trying to catch up with the new guy.
"That was close," Angel remarks to his buddy Dennis, "did you see those spikes? And notice her combat boots? Those steel noses could hurt a guy bad."
"Yeah, I'd hate to be the guy she has a crush on," Dennis agrees.
&&&&&&
Unaware of the accident behind him, Spike walks on towards the school. Only when he's inside, he realizes he doesn't have a clue as to where the office of the principal is. Oh, great. That's just my luck, of course. Well, let's see if anyone around here can direct me to the man's office. Or woman's. So he starts to turn around, when a girl bumps into him.
"Excuse me! Rude much? Why don't you look where you're going, I'm walking here," a stuck-up voice with an English accent remarks.
He looks at the girl, and almost starts to blush. She's wearing a simple black dress that barely covers the intimate parts of her body, and her neatly arranged black hair accentuate her facial features. My God, she looks like she's twenty. She's beautiful... on the outside. Okay, here goes nothing.
"I'm sorry. I was just trying to figure out how to get to the principal's office. You see, I'm new here and-"
"Oh, just spare me, okay? You just walk down this corridor, go to your right at the end and it's the first door on the right. Now excuse me, I have important things to do."
Without even so much as an apology the girl walks on. Astonished Spike keeps looking at her as she strides down the corridor. I've never met such a snob, he thinks, and starts in the direction of the principal's office. When the girl reaches a group of evenly snobistic teens, she suddenly turns around and says: "By the way, my name is Drusilla Leighton," and ignores him even before he can think of a reply.
Bloody Hell! Dad, what have you gotten me into? he asks in vain, and proceeds to the office. Making friends here is going to be a very... interesting experience.
&&&&&&
"Yes, come in," a voice with yet again an English accent answers after Spike's knocks on the door.
Man, is this like American England or something? What are the odds of meeting two people with English accents on a High School when you yourself are British? I wish my Slayer instinct would just lay low for an hour or more.
Nervous, Spike enters the room. A tall man, wearing glasses and a perfectly fitting gray suit, sits behind a big, mahogany desk.
"Please, be seated, mister..." the man flips to the first page of the dossier in front of him, "William O'Donnell. Born in Edinburgh seventeen years ago, and moved here recently. Last attended school... ah, yes, Courtland High. According to your record, Mister O'Donnell, you, and I quote: '... burnt down the gym at Prom Night' after which you took off on a stolen motorcycle. Well... Let's get one thing straight, mister O'Donnell," the principal starts, as he takes off his glasses and whipes them clean, "on Sunnydale High students don't burn down gyms, and they don't drive stolen motorcycles."
Oh man, here comes the welcoming speech, it flashes through Spike's head.
"My name is principal Rupert Giles, and I have had a clean record until this day. Sunnydale High may not be the largest school in the state, but it is the school with the least stealing, cheating, or other crimes you can think off. Why, you ask? Because I don't like teenagers. In my eyes puberty is a phase bestowed on a child by some higher power to test the adults around it. Teenagers are a plague, one that has to be contained by adults as good as possible. And I, Mister O'Donnell, am very good at containing things."
The principal gets out of his chair, and starts to circle Spike while he goes on about teenagers. Somewhere along the line Spike's mind becomes a black hole, absorbing everything he hears, and crushing it into oblivion instantly. A change in the tone of the man's voice catches Spike's attention again, and he sits up straight, veining interest. Giles takes his place behind the desk again, folds his hands, and looks Spike right in his eyes with a mean look in his.
"And that, mister O'Donnell, is why I will be keeping a close, a very close eye on you," the principal's voice sounds lower and lower, and in it lies a tone of danger. "If you so much as blink at someone the wrong way, I'll have your ass kicked out of school so hard you'll go into orbit, get it?"
Stunned by the man's hidden aggression, Spike nods.
"Good. I'll forget the little incident that caused you to redirect to another school," the principal tears up Spike's record, "but when something happens, my memory tends to get sharpened up, understand? I see you have a class in fifteen minutes, Mister O'Donnell. Have a nice day, and welcome to Sunnydale High," the principal concludes with a friendly smile.
Rupert Giles extends his right hand while he gets up again. Bewildered by this strange conversation, and the very sudden changes of mood the man seems to have, Spike also gets out of his chair. The two exchange looks. Then Spike turns around, and walks out of the office, ignoring the hand. When the door shuts, Giles sinks into his chair.
"Stubborn, cocky and a pain in the ass. This might prove to become quite interesting."
A swift movement of his right hand above the torn up papers makes the pieces glow. Seconds later the boy's record is whole again, as if nothing happened.
"Yes, quite interesting indeed."
Getting Acquainted
Closing the door after him, Spike stands outside the office, still baffled by the strange behavior the principal displayed. Okay... now that that's settled, let's see where I'll have my first class today. He opens his black backpack and rummages through it as he walks into the hall right in front of a girl and a boy. The boy bumps into him, making him lose his grip on the bag and its contents fall on the floor.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Spike quickly apologizes.
"That's okay," the boy replies, and he and the girl walk on.
Spike looks after them, and then focuses his attention on his stuff on the floor.
"Damn! Why don't they use their eyes around here?" he mutters, and starts to put them in his bag again.
At that moment Cordelia, who was just striving by, hears Spike mumble, looks back, quickly retraces her steps and squats down next to him to help him gather his belongings.
"Eh, do you need any uhm, help?" she stutters.
Surprised by the sudden offer, Spike looks at her and says: "Yeah, thanks."
"Eh, you're new here, aren't you?" Oh, great move, Cordy. First you stutter, and now you sound like a first-grader.
"Pretty much. The name's Wil-... Spike. Spike O'Donnell."
"Oh, well, I'm Cordelia, but everyone here calls me Talon."
"Interesting. Why's that?" Probably the same reason I want people to call me Spike.
"Because... because I sing in a band and Talon sounds better than Cordelia."
"Good choice. Hey, thanks for helping me out, but I really have to search-... uh, go to my class. Nice meeting you, and eh, thanks again."
While Spike stands up, he smiles at her before he starts down the hall.
"Sure, any time! I'll see you around here... somewhere..." Man, what a hunk! And a nice looking butt too... So why did I sound like some stupid dork? I have to get him to... Hey, what's this? On the floor lies something that looks like a... stake?
"Hey, you forgot your... stake!" she yells after Spike, but he doesn't hear her and continues down the hall, leaving Cordelia standing there with the wooden stake in her hand.
&&&&&&
In the classroom the teacher writes 'The Black Death' on the blackboard and then turns to the class.
"It is estimated that about twenty-five million people died in that one four-year span. But the fun part of the Black Plague is that it originated in Europe how?" the teacher asks the uninterested class.
No one looks up, including Spike. He's busy taking notes. So is Angel, seated next to him.
Since no one shows any sign of wanting to answer, the teacher continues: "As and early form of germ warfare. If you'll look at the map on page sixty-three you can trace the spread of disease into Rome, and then north..."
Everyone around Spike grabs his or her book, but he doesn't have one and looks around for help. Angel notices and shares his book.
"And this popular plague led to what social changes? Steve?"
The bell rings and the students get up to leave. Outside the classroom Angel extends his right hand and introduces himself: "Hi, I'm Angel."
Spike accepts it and also introduces himself: "Hi, I'm Spike. Spike O'Donnell."
"You know, if you want to have your very own textbook, which is a guide to absolute and utter boredom, there's probably one available in the library."
"Thanks for the advice. And exactly where would that be?"
"Come one, I'll show you."
Angel starts down the hall, and Spike follows.
"So, you're from England, right?"
"Keen observation. What gave it away? My jacket, my hair, or my fancy British accent?"
Angel's laughter makes some other students turn their heads. When they see who's doing the laughing, they make themselves look as invisible as possible. Spike sees this, and makes a mental note of it. Guess the guy I'm walking with is not everyone's favorite student.
"You're a fun guy. Stick with me and my buds, and you'll be accepted in no time. Do you play football?"
"No. Never gave it much thought. I always had... other ways of keeping in shape. Why do you ask?" Geez, what a moron. There are more things to life than being the stud of the school. For a second Spike's mind is overtaken by a flashback. Like being normal.
"Just checking to see if you were gonna be competition. Say, do you like Jell-O?"
"I have this feeling that if I say no, you're going to tell me that's what they serve every day in the lunchroom." Where is that damned library? If we don't get there soon, I'll strangle this guy! With much effort Spike tries to keep smiling and stay polite.
"Oh, wait here, I have to take a sip," Angel says as he points to a drinking fountain.
Standing over the fountain is Oz. He straightens up and sees the two coming his way.
"Hey Oz, how's life? Don't go out much, eh? Been surfing a lot on the Web? No wonder you're almost transparent," Angel says, and gives Oz a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Oh, uh, well, I... I just don't like to go out that much," he stutters.
"No wonder you're such a babe magnet. Are you done?"
Oz looks at the fountain, then back at Angel.
"Oh! Yeah. Uh, I'll just be, uhm, going now. Bye."
He turns and leaves as quickly as he can without looking as if he's running away. Spike watches him go for a moment before looking back at Angel after he starts talking again. Great. I'm hanging with a bully. I have a very, very strong dislike for bullies. And that's using an understatement.
"You know, if you wanna fit in with us, the first rule is: know your nerds. Once you can identify them all by sight," Angel quickly glances at Oz's back, "they're a lot easier to avoid."
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Spike mumbles, and produces a half-hearted smile before looking at Oz again, who just rounds the corner. Nerds, sure. I bet they're a Hell of a lot better to stand and two times a Hell of a lot nicer to be around than any of your group.
The two of them continue their walk to the library, and it doesn't take long for Angel to start talking again to a now seriously annoyed Spike.
"Hey, if you don't have too much catching up to do you should come by the Bronze tonight."
"The what?"
"The Bronze. It's the only club worth going to around here. In fact, it's the only club around here. And they let ANYbody in, even guys like Oz."
"Phew, I was almost scared they would only let guys like you in," Spike can't resist to remark sarcastically.
But Angel totally ignores the remark, and they stop outside the library doors.
"That's settled then, I'll see you there tonight. Catch ya later!" Angel says, gives thumbs up and leaves a Spike who's near boiling point behind in front of the library.
While he walks through the doors, he murmurs: "If that guy would have said one, just ONE more word, I would have staked the bloody bastard on the spot, human or no human! I HATE airheads!"
&&&&&&
Inside the library he stops and takes a look around. And where am I supposed to find those damned books? Why doesn't anything ever work out for me! If I weren't a Slayer, I'd bloody shoot myself! His eyes come across a newspaper, lying on the book checkout counter in which a picture is circled. The caption above it reads 'Local Boys Still Missing'.
A woman comes up behind him, and taps him on the shoulder. He spins around, ready to fight, and relaxes when he sees it's just a normal person standing there.
"Oh, sorry. I almost thought the library was deserted."
Spike succeeds in keeping his voice casual. How come I didn't hear her coming? Could it be... Please no, not here!
"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. Can I help you?" the woman asks, with a dark but friendly voice. She has a strange accent, which he can't quite pinpoint to a certain country. Her face looks like that of a normal woman, but Spike can see the fine lines of worry near her eyes and mouth, and her eyes have an almost cold glare in them. She's someone to reckon with.
"Actually, yes. I was looking for a book about, eh... You see, I'm new here, I just have to have the books I need to follow classes."
Great answer, Spike. As if I would need books for something else, being a teenager and all.
"Ah, I see. Mister O'Donnell, I presume?"
"Correct. Either you're psychic, or I'm the only new kid in school. I'd say the latter."
"Welcome to Sunnydale. I'm Miss Summers. The librarian. I was told you were coming."
"Why am I not surprised. Okay, I'm gonna need 'Perspectives on 20th Century..."
He keeps talking while Miss Summers walks around him and heads behind the counter. Spike follows, leans against the counter, and quickly reads the article about the missing boys. Bloody Hell, if that's what I think it is... His thoughts are interrupted by the librarian's voice.
"I know exactly what you need."
With a faint smile she pulls out a very dusty, very large and very old book with the word 'VAMPYR' written in big gold lettering on the front cover, and smacks it on the counter. The dust swirls around Spike's head, while he looks up at the librarian with a slightly angry gaze.
"That is not what I am looking for," he says emotionless.
"Are you sure?" Summers asks.
"Absolutely, positively, 200 percent, sure."
The anger reaches his eyes, and he emphasizes every word.
"Oh," the librarian replies confused, "my mistake."
When she puts the book back behind the counter, Spike backs away as silently as possible, turns and walks towards the doors.
"So, what is it you said again..." Summers starts while straightening back up, but stops as she sees the swinging library doors. Her first encounter with Spike leaves her baffled.
&&&&&&
In the guys' locker room two boys are talking about Spike.
"The new guy? Seems kind of weird to me. What kind of a name is Spike, anyway?" Mark says.
"Y'know, I talked to Angel, and he heard from Drusilla that he got kicked out, and that's why his dad decided to transfer here," Jonathan replies.
Mark continues to fiddle with his gym lockers, he always has trouble remembering in what order the numbers are, and says: "No way!"
"Yes way! And he was starting fights."
"No way, man! Come on, he's British! I thought those guys were, like, THE most civilized people on Earth!"
Jonathan opens his locker while saying: "Yeah, well, I heard from Blue, and she said that-"
A dead boy falls out of the locker onto his arm. Jonathan lets out a loud, terrified screech while jumping backwards against a terrified Mark, and the body smacks against the floor with a sickening thud.
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