Stuck In Overdrive (2b/7)

["Jamie" <sombrerogiles@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title: Stuck in Overdrive (2b/6)
Author: Jamie
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Joss 0wnz, I'm 0wned.
Author's Notes: Set three months after the events of 'Stuck In The FeedbackLoop'. Willow deals with Buffy's death, in the sense of not-dealing. Quickie Update.
Dedication: Mad-Hamlet - Your Prisms Continuity...for inspiring me to writea sequel :)

CHAPTER 3

Dressed To Kill.






Self-indulged idiot with no sense of chivalry.

That's what I made of him.

Or at least, that's what my pain wracked brain made of him as I flew backwards and my head came into contact with the headstone. My skull bounced off of the stone and snapped forward, my vision became hazy and at the periphery darkness enroached. I blinked a few times and barely managed to roll to the side as a clawed hand came down and ripped huge rivets out of the ground.

I groaned and kicked up, the soles of my boots colliding with the vampire'sjaw. It grunted and stumbled back. That was all the time I needed. I spun around into a roundhouse kick to the jaw and then an open-palmed blow to the demon's chest. I heard snaps.

"I told you, this jacket was expensive. It wasn't off the frickin' rack." Isaid, as I whipped a stake from my inside pocket and lodged it in the creature's black heart. The stake crumbled to ash.along with the vampire. "Moron."

I sighed and brushed yet another helping of vamp-dust off of me. I was seriously thinking of finding a way to polarise myself or something to repel it. I mean, no matter what you do, the stuff never comes out. I'm so gonna get asthma from this job one of these days.

Brushing myself down one more time, I resumed walking through the field of graves at my leisure, occasionally spinning a stake around my fingers. After about 10 minutes I reached the gates, having not encountered another vampire since the one who decided to see how bouncy a Slayer's head is when it hits a grave. 

"Oh come on!" I shouted to no one in particular. "Like you have anything better to do." Receiving no reply, I started off home, probably having jinxedmy evening yet again.

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I pulled the hood over my head and turned to my father, similarly dressed, but his robe was brown rather than black. Across the room Rupert was conversing with Dmitri, no doubt about some fascinating supernatural phenomenon.

"You have to be joking," Rupert's voice came rather suddenly. I started andlooked at him.

"I am quite serious Mr. Giles. Manchester United have a very good chance ofbeating Arsenal on Saturday." Dmitri replied calmly.

"Ahem," I said, silencing the two men who had suddenly regressed to schoolboys.

"Sorry," They both mumbled, their heads hung low. I smiled and turned back to my father. My smile faltered.

"I am not sure of this course of action Janna." He said in a hushed tone. "There is a great disturbance around us, can you not feel it?" I closed my eyes and attuned, harmonised if you will, my senses to my surroundings. It was true, something peculiar was happening, a strong force was all around them. Something dark, full of pain and suffering.

"I feel it, father." I replied.

"Now is not the time to be working the Old ways. It is not safe."

"This has to be done." I said, perhaps a little too sharply. "The girl I told you about, Willow.she.she carries this around like a weight attached to her ankle. And the way she is walking, it's as if she's on a tightrope overwater. If she falls of, the weight will drag her down." I paused for effect. "And she's already wobbling father. I cannot let her fall. I will not."

"But a spell of this magnitude." He began, but I cut him off with a look.

"We have to try." I said, pleading with my eyes. He studied me for a long time, locking his line of sight with mine. For long moments we stood like that, I refused to back down.

"Very well," He relented finally. "But be it on your head, Janna."

"Thank you, father." I said, bowing my head.

"Do not thank me." He snapped angrily. I looked up, shocked. "I wish to have no part in this, I go along only out of love for you. I think it is a fools quest. Even if you succeed, do you think she will really be the same? You cannot possibly come back from an experience like this girl has been through and be the person you used to be. People change, Janna. Sometimes irreversibly." He pulled the hood up over his head, instantly shrouding his features in darkness. "Never forget that." I exhaled deeply, quelling the reaction to argue with him, to shoot back. My emotions had to be in check for the Rite. The slightest unbalanced factor could lead to disastrous circumstances. I closed my eyes and inhaled the incense burning in the centre of the circle. I stood for a few moments taking in the sweet smell, letting it fill my person. I visualised it as a cool ocean breeze, blowing away a tempestand calming the waves once again. My eyes opened and I turned around.

"We'd better begin, it's almost time."

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I lit the black candle in the centre of the circle. Dmitri sat on the next point of the floor pentacle to my left, Jenny to the right.

"Mort, ne al fiintei..." I chanted, closing my eyes.

"Dead, not of the living." Jenny's father translated.

"Care-i va transporta, sufletul la ella amore." I chanted again, reciting from memory.

"Carry, transport her soul to her love."

"Ji al he perdita olo kaniari, ju discovora."

"Let that which was lost be found."

"Ji al he asunt olo, ju reton."

"Let that which was ripped be returned."

"Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum"

"So it shall be!" I opened my eyes.

"So it shall be!" The entire circle chanted. A light breeze flew throug theroom, turning pages slightly upwards and rustling leaves of plants.

"Now!" I said simultaneously with Jenny. I reached into the small leather pouch I had placed in front of my and withdrew a handful of glittering gold dust, which was promptly thrown onto the black candle. The flame turned a darker shade of gold. Jenny threw hers on soon after, and the flame went even darker. One by one the rest of the circle threw theirs on.

"NOW!" We shouted together, and threw the remaining dust we had left at thesame time. The flame turned black and grew in size by about three centimetres. Jenny looked at it in horror.

"Something's wrong."

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In a back alley of Sunnydale, near the Bronze, an apartment stood that housed a man. This man was like no other, however. He was undead, and even then, he was different from the rest of them.

He had a soul.

At least, he did until a few seconds ago.

He was doubled over on the floor in pain, a heart-wrenching cry of agony escaping his lips. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and dropped to the floor. His lips were firmly pressed together, so hard that all you could see wasa thin white line. His eyebrow were knitted in concentration and his fistswere clenched, almost as if he was fighting something. With a gasp his head snapped up and he staggered to his knees. The man lifted his arms out above him, as if in some sort of prayer.

"Why?" He asked through clenched teeth, as his eyes flared, and he collapsed to the floor. The room around him seemed to darken slightly, ever so slightly. The man's breathing began to return to it's normal rhythm, the erratic gulps of air being drawn before a seemingly distant memory. He picked himself up, and stood, brushing himself off. He brought his head up for a second time, and now the lamplight revealed a horribly twisted mockery of the man's former, attractive face. The brow had protruded outwards and become a lot more prominent, the eyes blazed yellow and feral, and the teeth.his canines had extended to a good two inches. He smiled a toothy grin, more mocking than jovial, kind of like those Greek statues you see of the ancient gods. They may be smiling, but ya know it's not good.

"I'm baaaack!"