Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, although they have been twisted for my own use. I apologize profusely to Joss Whedon for my butchering of his creation. Buffy The Vampire Slayer is owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television and the WB Television Network. Wow, that's a mouthful!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part Two
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel walked into the bare apartment. Whistler sat on the couch watching TV. He looked up as Angel entered the room.
"Back so soon?" Whistler asked.
"Whistler, you ever think there could be more?"
"More what Angel? Help me out here."
"Vampire with souls. What if I'm not the only one?"
"Honest. I don't know. I doubt it though."
"Yeah."
"Any particular reason you're wonderin' this now? Or you think about this kinda thing all the time?"
"Huh? No. It's just, there was a girl vampire today, and she, didn't - feel right." Angel shrugged slightly, at a lost for words. "I can't really explain what she felt like-"
"Ah, a girl huh? Always about a girl ain't it?"
Angel gave Whistler an angry look.
"Right, right, you're a one woman vampire. I dunno Angel, maybe."
"Whistler, how many people out there know about me?"
"Huh? Oh, well, let's see, the watchers keep records of all the players."
"What about other vampires?" "Sure, I'm sure word about your soul has gotten around. I don't see why not. Not comfortable with fame?"
"No, it's just that.... I don't know. If I'm so well known, wouldn't another vampire be too?" Angel shook his head. "No, never mind. It's almost sun rise, I'm going to bed."
Whistler watched Angel go off into the other room. He shook his head. The TV kept droning on, but Whistler wasn't paying attention anymore. They had been in LA over a month, and Angel still didn't seem to have any direction. Every night it was the same thing. Angel would go walk the streets and come back not having fed with this lost look on his face.
"God, I'm gettin' too old for this," Whistler muttered.
The sunrise started to lighten the window. He glanced back to the bedroom where Angel was. They had bought the industrial strength blinds, so that no sunlight would get through. Still, at the time, Whistler had assumed it was only temporary. He thought they'd be on their way to some place almost underground.
Whistler stretched and turned off the TV. He rustled around in the kitchen for a few moments and checked the fridge.
"Angel's gotta be more careful, he's running low again."
Whistler grabbed a bottle of ginger ale and headed out the door. The sunshine blinded him for a minute, but only until he put on his sunglasses. He wasn't really sure what to do, but he was supposed to be Angel's daytime ears and eyes, so he figured he should be doing something.
Whistler walked down the street drinking his ginger ale. The streets were busy as usual, not he minded. Los Angeles was a lot busier than Sunnydale had ever been. Whistler hadn't needed very long to set up contacts in Sunnydale. Los Angeles was a different matter. There were so many people pretending to be creatures of the night, that sometimes it was hard to find a real one. Especially one that would be willing to help.
A youngish woman was standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at her hands. Whistler didn't think too much about it, people in Los Angeles tended to be in their own world. But still, something about this woman bothered him.
As Whistler got closer he could hear her mutter, "So much blood. Pouring off my hands…deliver me O Dark Lord."
Whistler didn't pay much attention to her rambling at first. Again, a lot of people in Los Angeles muttered about things. The stuff about the blood didn't even really bother him, until she mentioned something about the Dark Lord. He turned to look at her again, just in time to see her step out into the street slowly. She had a dazed look on her face. Whistler moved to stop her, but suddenly a bus came out of no where and hit her. There were surprised shouts from people, but no one made a move. The bus stopped. Whistler watched as no one moved. Finally he stepped out into the street and knelt down by the woman. His movement seemed to spur everyone else on.
"Someone call an ambulance!" a voice cried.
Whistler checked for a pulse.
"Too late for this one," he muttered, being careful not to get the seeping blood on his shoes. Her final words were still bothering him. She looked like any ordinary streetwalker, but still. He started to stand up and then noticed something on her wrist. She had a black tattoo on her left wrist. Whistler bent down and looked at it more carefully. It looked a lot like a Yin-Yang sign, only the black side had no dot and it seemed to be overcoming the light side. There were symbols below it, but Whistler had no idea what they meant.
"This is not good," Whistler muttered, not for once believing it was a normal tattoo. "No, definitely not good."
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
