Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

Chapter 12

As a distant bell tolled, the creatures stood unmoving and silent. They stared at their new toy and waited for the inevitable questions, denials and the final panic before the toy knew nothing but sweet pain and torment.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Xander asked. His voice was shaking and unsteady, his brain unwilling to accept what he was seeing.

“CENOBITES. EXPLORERS OF THE FURTHER REGIONS. DEMONS TO SOME. ANGELS TO OTHERS. YOU CALLED US.”

“No. I-I didn’t.”

“THE BOX – IT IS A MEANS TO SUMMON US. YOU OPENED IT. WE CAME.”

Xander shook his head. “No, I didn't mean to summon you. You can just go back to wherever you came from.”

The female Cenobite circled. She fingered the metal that pierced her neck and smiled. “NOT ALONE, WE CAN’T.”

“This isn’t real.”

Pinhead laced his fingers together and tilted his head. “I CAN ASSURE YOU, IT IS. YOU SOLVED THE PUZZLE BOX. NOW YOU MUST COME WITH US AND TASTE OUR PLEASURES.”

“Please, no, no, no.”

A Cenobite grabbed Xander’s neck as he tried to run. He pulled Xander across the tarmac and pressed his back to his leather covered chest, squeezing his throat in an iron grip. A huge, gaping, rectangular mouth filled with pointed teeth chattered and cackled like a hyena into his neck.

“No,” Xander sobbed. “Please, no.”

Pinhead laughed. “NO TEARS PLEASE, CHILD. IT IS A WASTE OF GOOD SUFFERING.”

A chain soared from the darkness and latched onto Xander’s leg. Another and another and another from all directions and Xander was screaming. He was pulled to the floor and out of Chatterbox’s grip. As the chains snaked into his body, Xander tried to crawl away. He knew it was useless, but he had to try to survive.

He owed it to Spike to try.

Wires whipped through the air like telephone cables in a storm. They wrapped around his wrists and tugged his arms behind his back. Another chain plunged into his chest and pulled him forward until his face was pressed into the ground.

“WE KNOW WHAT YOU DREAM ABOUT. WE KNOW YOU.”

The voice was familiar but Xander barely noticed. More wires whipped through the air and lashed at his back.

“DON’T WORRY, SWEET. I’M POSITIVE SHE ENJOYED IT. WE KNOW YOU DID, TOO,” the familiar voice mocked. “IT HAS GIVEN YOU A TASTE THAT YOU’VE NOT YET ENJOYED. MAYBE IF YOU’D ASKED YOUR DADDY NICELY, HE’D HAVE FUCKED YOU, TOO.”

The chains and wires left his body and retreated. Xander lay panting on the ground, all his strength sucked dry by fear and immense pain. He watched as a pair of polished leather boots walked around him and, without warning, he was lifted and pressed against a hard body.

“IT’S TIME, XANDER. I ALWAYS WANTED YOU.”

Xander lifted his head and pushed himself far enough away from his captor to look at his face. His pulse raced faster and the world tilted and darkened further. “Angel.”

“ANGELUS,” the Cenobite corrected.

“H-How? Angelus…”

“THEY TOOK ME IN. THEY SHOWED ME THE ERROR OF MY WAYS. MY IDEA OF PAIN AND TORTURE WAS INADEQUATE. BUT THEY SAW MY POTENTIAL. XANDER, I CAN SHOW YOU SO MUCH.”

Angelus smiled, revealing his gleaming fangs. They were the only part of him that was even vaguely the same. His brow was swollen to twice its normal size and it bulged between wires that cut deep into his skin. His lips were contorted into a permanent sneer and his hair stood up in wild black spikes.

But his eyes… They were still impossibly beautiful. Large, deep, emotion-filled; they stared into Xander’s soul and begged him to enjoy the ride.

Xander was pressed further into Angelus’ body. He clawed at the leather-clad chest and arms, but it was useless. His strength was no match even against the normal Angelus, but this new and improved version was made of steel. As Xander kicked, punched, scratched and even bit, Angelus stood solid and unmoving.

Finally, when he’d grown tired of the pathetic struggling, Angelus clamped his hands to each side of Xander’s head and pulled him forward. He sealed his lips over Xander’s and kissed him.

Fangs grew longer and pierced his lips and Xander choked and struggled to breathe as Angelus’ tongue snaked out and entered his throat.

When the tongue retreated from his mouth and moved to lick his throat, Xander had a sudden burst of inspiration, an idea that, if he was right, could save him.

Maybe.

“Wait!” he shouted.

“NO TIME FOR ARGUMENT.”

Xander looked around at the larger Cenobite. He was wearing sunglasses and Xander recognised him as Lazlo, Spike’s once-friend.

“Y-you’ve done this before, right?”

“MANY TIMES.”

Xander whipped his head around to try and face the voice. Pinhead.

“To a man named Riley Finn?”

“OH, YES.”

“He escaped you.”

“IMPOSSIBLE!”

“I swear it’s true. He’s alive. He’s back. I’ve seen him.”

Pinhead hesitated; the sky crackled and purple lighting streaked around the sun. “SUPPOSE HE HAS SLIPPED US. WHAT IS THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THAT?!”

“I could lead him to you. You could take him back to Hell instead of me.”

All the Cenobites looked at each other.

“SUPPOSE WE WANT YOU,” Angelus said, licking at Xander’s throat before sinking his teeth just under the surface of his skin.

“WAIT, ANGELUS,” Pinhead commanded. “I WANT TO SEE RILEY FINN FOR MYSELF. THEN, MAYBE…MAYBE.”

“BUT IF YOU CHEAT US, YOUR SUFFERING WILL BE LEGENDARY, EVEN IN HELL,” the female warned.

Pinhead stepped forward. “CHEAT US AND WE’LL TEAR YOUR SOUL APART!!!”

Xander was released from Angelus’ embrace. The Cenobites stepped back and one by one they started to smile.

“SHOW ME FINN. I WANT TO HEAR HIM CONFESS. YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.”

“Xan!!”

Xander started at Spike’s desperate cry. The Cenobites vanished, pleased that they would have the chance to catch up with an old friend, and Xander cried fresh tears of desperation.

Just let this be over, please.

As he sank to the ground, Xander felt the cool arms of his lover wrap around him.

“Luv? Fuck, Xan. Talk to me, pet. Come on, darlin’. Fuck, look at you. What did they do? What did they fucking do to you?”

“I’m sorry,” Xander whispered.

Spike hugged him tighter. “Don’t be.”

“No, I am. I didn’t mean to, Spike. I didn’t mean to open The Box.”

Spike nodded and ran his hands over Xander’s back. When he’d seen Xander in the distance, held brutally and surrounded by Cenobites, his heart had cracked and split.

Too many of them.

Too strong.

No way out.

His brain had done a flip and for a split second he had considered killing Xander himself, ending his lover’s life so that he would rest in death instead of suffering in Hell. “Why did you, baby?”

“I don’t know,” Xander sobbed. “Spike, I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay, luv. It’s alright now.”

“No, it isn’t. It won’t be okay until it’s over.”

Spike brushed the hair from Xander’s eyes. He heard, rather than saw, Wesley approach from behind them, but he ignored it and focused on Xander. Of course it wasn’t over. The Cenobites wouldn’t just disappear.

“What happened, luv?”

Xander closed his eyes and burrowed further into Spike’s embrace. Just a few seconds to ignore, forget and pretend that Hell didn’t exist.

“Riley’s alive.”

**

Buffy didn’t wait for an invitation. She kicked down the door and stormed inside. She didn’t have far to look.

Tara and Willow stood up from the couch and blocked Buffy’s route to Dawn.

“Buffy, what are you…?!”

One glance at Buffy’s furious and psychotic face was all they needed to determine that this would not be a happy visit.

“Give me Dawn.”

“Buffy…” Willow tried.

“Give her to me.”

“No,” Tara said, her voice concrete and determined.

Buffy faltered, her eyes flicking rapidly between Willow and Tara. “What?”

“I think you heard me.” There was no stutter and no hesitation.

“She’s mine.”

“I’m not your property!” Dawn wailed from behind her friends.

“Dawn!” Willow chided. She turned back to Buffy and spoke in a tone that she hoped was reasonable and not in the slightest bit threatening. “Dawn stays here. You’re not…you’re not in any fit state to take care of her.”

“Don’t make me do this, Willow. She’s my Sister and I want her.”

“You can’t have her, Buffy.”

“Why?” The question sounded more like the whine of a child than a query from an adult Slayer.

“Because we don’t know if we can trust you, not after what you did to Xander,” Willow answered.

Buffy laughed and pulled the blood stained knife from her pocket. “That was nothing.”

Three heartbeats boomed. So much blood.

Xander’s?

“Oh, god, Buffy, what have you done?”

“Now isn’t that the question of the day?”

Buffy spun to face Faith.

“Go,” Faith commanded to the Witches and Dawn. She pulled back her fist and slammed it into Buffy’s face. “Getting slow, B,” she observed as the punch connected and Buffy stumbled back.

Buffy smiled again and lunged, the knife held out to plunge and rip as she’d done to Giles.

Faith spun out of the way, twirling her body and grabbing Buffy’s shoulder as she went. She pulled the other Slayer off balance and kicked her legs out from underneath her. “Go!” She shouted again.

Willow nodded, even though she knew that Faith was too preoccupied with the fight to notice. She grasped Dawn’s hand and tugged her across the room, Tara following close behind.

The plan was simple; get Dawn out of the house first. And then come back.

Dawn glanced over her shoulder and watched as Buffy rolled from Faith’s fists and kicked hard enough to send her enemy across the room.

She was torn.

This was her sister and she loved her with all her heart. But one look at Buffy’s crazed expression, her face red with fury and her mouth dripping drool like a rabid dog and Dawn just knew it wasn’t Buffy anymore. Something had crept in and infected. Something had taken root and spread like a deadly virus that poisoned and rotted.

A tug at her arm and Dawn let herself be dragged from the house.

The darkness of the outside shocked her. She’d seen the faltering of daylight from the window, but being outside and underneath the darkened sun felt so different, so real, so utterly desolate.

“Take the car. Take Dawn away, anywhere. I have to go back and help Faith.”

“No, Willow, please don’t back in there,” Dawn pleaded. “Did you see the knife? Did you see it? You can’t go back! You’ll die!”

“Dawn…”

“No! She’s killed Xander, I know it! Don’t go back.”

Willow’s expression darkened. She’d thought the same thing, but hearing it out loud devastated her and filled her with unprecedented rage.

“Take her.”

Tara nodded.

“NOOO!!”

Willow turned away and walked back to the house. Her movement was strong, flowing, determined and angry. She could hear the fight inside and she was eager to join. She only wanted one thing – to hear Buffy confess to Xander’s murder – before she tore her skin from her body.

**

Every blow countered, every block outmanoeuvred.

Faith spun, kicked, head butted and twisted, throwing everything she had at Buffy and more. And finally Buffy began to weaken. Her timing was a split second off and Faith used this to pound mercilessly with brutal blows from her fists and from any object that was within her reach.

Buffy panicked. She knew she was weak. Giles had seen to that. She had to give him extra credit for effort and sheer determination. He’d certainly given her a run for her money. She would never admit it, but she had been more afraid of the hatred she’d seen in his eyes than of any demon she’d ever fought and conquered.

Buffy looked up from where she struggled on the floor with Faith, and caught the fury-filled eyes of Willow. Her friend stood in the door way and just watched.

“Willow…”

Faith saw the opening, the hesitation, and went for the kill. She placed her hands around Buffy’s neck and…stopped. She glanced down and stared stupidly at the knife embedded in her gut.

Faith looked up and sneered in Buffy’s face. “Bitch.” Her pulse slowed, her eyes rolled up and disappeared and, with one last shuddering breath, she died.

“Willow…”

“Shut up.”

“Willow, I didn’t want to do this. Please believe me.” Buffy got up from the floor and cautiously approached. Willow’s face had paled to ivory and her eyes shimmered from red to black.

“Willow…”

“I said, shut up.”

Buffy crept forward, cowering from a wrath that she knew she was powerless against. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Kill Xander? Your best friend? Then what did you mean?”

Buffy straightened up and took a chance by edging forward. “I didn’t kill Xander.”

“Don’t lie to me! I want to hear you say it!”

“I didn’t kill him! I would never! You have to believe me!”

“The knife…”

“That wasn’t Xander’s blood. I swear it, Wills. I know I hurt him and I’m so sorry for that. But I didn’t kill him. I haven’t even been near him.”

Willows eyes returned to their normal colour and she fought to hold onto the slim hope that maybe she was wrong.

“Whose blood is it?”

Buffy shrugged. “Demon,” she lied. “It got in my way. I just wanted my sister back.”

Willow tried to believe. She wanted to believe. She wanted Xander to be alive more than she wanted her own existence. “You’re lying.”

“No. I’m not. Look at me, Wills. I’ve never been able to lie to you. I’d never kill Xander, never. The three of us -- friends forever, remember?”

And part of Buffy truly believed that. No matter what was in her head, no matter what was eating away her soul, she still loved Willow and Xander. And she still loved Giles, in life and in death.

A single tear slipped down Willow’s face and she reached out to her friend. How she wished she could turn back the clock and experience again the innocence of childhood, experience again the feeling that she’d got every time she’d opened her eyes to a sunny morning of school, friends and sleepovers. “Buffy, what’s happening to you?”

Buffy took her hand and smiled through her own tears. “I love you, Willow. I always have. No matter what happens, you’ll always be in my heart.”

Willow smiled back and squeezed Buffy’s hand. “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said as she pulled her hand from Willow’s. “I love you but…I have to get my sister. I’m so sorry.”

Willow never heard the second apology. A white strike of pain flashed through her skull and her eyes shuttered as the room closed in and her body failed.

Buffy watched her fall and she cried harsh tears of sorrow and regret. She put down the ornament and knelt to kiss her friend.

“I really am sorry.”

**

Tara stared out the windscreen and gripped the wheel.

“Who is that?” Dawn asked.

“I don’t know.”

The man was sweating, panting with exhaustion and with relief that the car had stopped before it hit him. He’d had his doubts that he wouldn’t end up wrapped around a tire or two, present circumstances as they were.

“Hey,” he said, raising his hand in a seemingly friendly gesture.

Tara shook her head and crashed back to reality. Oh, god, she’d nearly hit him.

“No, no, don’t get out,” the man said as he rushed around to the driver's side of the car. “There isn’t time.”

“Time? Time for…?”

“Just time. Look, I know this is going to sound completely bizarre and you’re gonna think I’m some kind of crackpot, but…your friends are in trouble. We have to help them before it’s too late. You see, there are these creatures after them. And there’s a man that wants to kill them. And a Slayer; I saw a Slayer. Your friend? Dark haired guy with funny looking cupid bow mouth? He’s gonna die. They’re gonna take him.”

“Xander?!”

The man shrugged. “Don’t have names this time, only pictures.”

“What…? How…?”

“Look, we don’t have time for this. In a nutshell, I get visions. I see things. And I saw your friends die. Cenobites, man. Not good.”

Tara debated for only a second. She’d already read the guy’s aura and she could detect no evil or malice. “Get in. Which way?”

“Keep going straight. I’ve already seen the house.”

Dawn turned around in her seat. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Doyle.”


**

They stood outside the house and Xander looked up at the window as if he expected to still see Riley’s face still pressed against it. He checked behind him and was unsurprised to see the five Cenobites in the distance. They lingered expectantly in a line, five demons without souls, watching, biding, anticipating and waiting for the result of their bargain.

“You don’t have to do this,” Xander said to Wesley. “You’re not involved.”

“I want to do this. The legend of The Order of The Gash, the Cenobites to a lay person, is quite clear that they will only take the one that opened the box. I’m quite safe.”

“Not from Riley, you’re not.”

Wesley straightened his shoulders. “I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

“Geez, chill, Wes. I was only sayin’.”

Spike allowed himself to feel a little pride. Xander was beaten, broken, wracked with grief and fear, yet he still carried on without even a consideration of stopping. It was true that time was not his friend on this occasion, but a lesser man would have crumbled in defeat and curled up to die.

But not Xander.

Life continued to screw him but he still held on, still fought for all he was worth.

“So, Riley confesses that he escaped and the Cenobites take him instead of you. That was the deal, yeah?”

Xander swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

Spike checked over his shoulder. The Cenobites looked impatient. “Then let’s get this the fuck over with.”

Xander felt an arm slip around his waist and urge him forward. He let Spike take most of his weight and together, with Wesley by their side, they entered the house.

The Cenobites followed.

TBC…