The Ravages Of Hell

FIC: Ravages Of Hell (13/?)

Angel forced himself to relax. As much as he disliked organised crime thugs, they weren’t really his concern. Even if he did what he wanted and tore the scumbags’ throats out it would only mean that Petrov’s club was destroyed by their replacements the moment he left.

Quelling his distaste at his unused to helplessness, he nodded to their host as the man rose and waddled towards the quartet of thugs. “Dad.”

He looked towards Connor and shook his head. “I know son, but there’s not much we can do-.”

“No dad, them.”

He cursed when he looked over his shoulder to see another quartet of hoods entering the club, Uzis in hands. “Hit the ground!” he roared, knocking the table, he dropped to the dusty ground. Obviously the strippers doubled as the cleaners.

“We haven’t got any weapons!” Connor bellowed over the sound of gunfire and people screaming.

“Yes we have,” he corrected. Conscious of the patrons and exotic dancers’ screams as the bullets ripped through them, their blood splattering throughout the club, making him momentarily vamp out, he reached for the shattered bottles Connor and Groo had been drinking from. “Stay down!” he ordered.

“Believe me when I say, not going anywhere!” Connor yelled over the shooting.

At the first lull in firing, Angel leapt to his feet and began flinging shards into the throats of the underworld minions. “Ah hell!” he grunted as bullets from the last two shooters thudding into him. Fighting against the pain, he hurdled over the table and landed between the two killers some fifteen feet away. “Hi comrades!” he smiled before reaching out to grab the thugs’ throats and squeezing until they broke. “Bye comrades!”

Dropping the two corpses, he fell to one knee, his body overcome with weariness and pain. “Dad! Are you okay!”

He allowed himself a half-second to luxuriate in his son’s concern before raising his head and nodding. “I’m okay,” he lied. “Just give me a minute.”

“Shall we get the book, Angel?” Groom queried.

“Good idea,” he agreed. As his companions hurried across the dance floor, shattered glass clinking underfoot, Angel inspected his surroundings. Where just minutes before people had been having a good time, there was only destruction and pain. Corpses and groaning, bleeding bodies littered the floor, blood mixing with cordite in the air.

Sickened by his demon’s rejoicing, he stumbled to his feet and dragged his wounded body into the office. “Found it?” he asked, voice filled with weary pain.

Connor looked up, his son’s face creased with worry. “We have,” the human\vampire hybrid confirmed. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “But I will be once I’ve fed.”

“Maybe you could-.” His son’s voice trailed off as he peered over his shoulder towards the carnage.

”No,” Angel shook his head at his son’s suggestion. “I don’t feed from humans. I can hold on until we get back to the hotel.”

* * *

Oz looked up as Xander crept into the bedroom that he and Wood were sharing with the founding Scooby. “Hey, Xander.”

His friend started at the former principal’s voice. “Oh, sorry guys,” the younger man turned on the light. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“We weren’t sleeping.” Wood reassured the native Sunnydaler. “We thought we’d wait up, make sure everything went alright.”

“It went fine.” Xander grinned. “We can roll tomorrow.”

“Great,” Wood replied before pausing. Oz groaned inwardly, he hated it when he saw these metaphorical car crashes coming but couldn’t do anything to get out of the way. “Look, about Faith.”

Xander’s eye hardened. “I told you yesterday. You want to get back into her pants, go for your life. But I’m not some pawn in your chess game.”

Wood’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about me and Faith,” the bald African-American protested. “This is about you treating a great girl like crap.”

“Kinda like she treated me,” Xander shot back. “Look, you wanna trust her. Have some idealised picture of her, your neck,” Xander winced at that. “But I know that’s bullshit. I know her for the bitch she really is.”

“Now hold on!” Wood rose, eyes flaring. “You’ve got some problem with Willow, that’s your affair. But don’t be -.”

“Not. Another. Word,” Oz broke in. He hated having to get involved, but calling in the Slayers to separate them as they wrestled on the ground wasn’t a real option either. It was pathetic, it really was. As a werewolf he could smell the jealousy coming off both men. Xander was jealous of Wood’s relationship with Faith while Wood was jealous that Xander had got there first.

Both crazy in love with the same woman and both unable to admit. Shaking his head, Oz continued. “This isn’t a playground where you can pull each other’s hai-,” his voice trailed off when he glanced at the bald black man. “Anyway. You’re our leaders,” he turned off the light. “Lead.”

* * *

The Amazon

“F-U-C-K!” Faith looked around the leafy jungle surrounding them. She’d never seen so much green in her life. “It is hot!” Her outfit of khaki shorts and tied off canvas shirt were sticking to her like a second skin. As a city gal she had to admit all this wildlife, the sounds, sights, and smells were more than a little intimidating. And being forced to travel without a guide because no one dared to come into the territory was just the icing on the freaking cake.

“Wait.” She turned to see Rona some way down the dirt packed road, hopping around on one foot. “I’ve got a stone in my shoe!”

Faith exchanged an amused look with Kennedy. “A stone in your shoe? You’re a freakin’ sissy!” she accused.

Rona glared at her as she struggled to take her boot off. “This from the woman who was screaming about a snake two hours back.”

“I was not screaming,” Faith loftily replied. “I was warning ya all of a threat.”

“Sounded like screaming to us,” Vi put in. “And a threat? From a six inch worm?”

“I won’t be warning any of you in the future,” Faith huffed.

”Gee, I guess we’ll have to watch out for a possible teddy bear attack on our lonesome,” Rona scoffed.

Faith scowled at the African-American. “Gee, I don’t remember you being this funny back in Sunnydale. Annoying sure.”

“Oh, Faith.”

Faith glanced at Kennedy. Her glare at being interrupted turned to a grin when she registered the spear-wielding jungle natives surrounding them. “Well it’s about time you guys got here,” she scolded. “Five freakin’ days. Well what are ya waiting for? Take us to your leader.” Her beaming smile widened. She’d always wanted to say that.

* * *

Kennedy stared at first the ten tribesmen and then her calmly waiting leader. “Are you mad?” Kennedy hissed. “We can take them.”

“Yup,” Faith appeared unfazed by her anger. “But those reports we’ve got say the Trident’s guardians are local tribesmen. I figure we get them to lead us to their village rather than us waste our time trying to find it.”

“And if you’re wrong?” she demanded while watching the surrounding loin-clothed men, ugh just one look under them reminded herself why she was a lesbian. “They might be cannibals!”

“Wouldn’t be the first bunch of guys who’ve wanted to eat me,” Faith cheerfully replied. “Kinda reminds me of this biker club back in ’97.”

Kennedy wrinkled her nose. “You’re disgusting.”

Faith winked. “You say the nicest things.”

* * *

“Oh heck!” Buffy cheerfully exclaimed as Mashiro led the Slayer legend and her companions into his inner sanctum – his well-stocked library. “And I don’t speak Japanese. Looks like you’ll have to research without me.”

”Actually Miss Summers,” Masahiro politely corrected, none of the pride he felt in his bland tone. “The texts contained in here,” he looked around the quiet chamber, “are in a variety of languages. Including English.” He chose to ignore the tiny blonde’s utterance of an unladylike word in favour of bowing slightly. “I will return with some of our researchers,” he promised.

“Oh goody,” muttered the blonde, sulkily pouting.

Once he’d returned, he took a book and began reading, keeping one eye on Miss. Summers. What he observed was more than a little disappointing. Given what he’d read of Miss Summers’ exploits, he’d expected a commanding warrior woman. Instead he was confronted with a western pretty the like of which were working in cocktail bars all over the city. “Disappointing,” he muttered. Comforting himself that perhaps her true face came out in battle he began to read. And it could have been worse; he could have been confronted with the Lehane geisha.

“I’ve found something,” Masahiro looked up at the excited brunette. He remembered her name was Michelle. He shook his head at her unnecessary display of emotion. “Directions.”

The Immortal smiled, now there was a man of substance. “May I?” the Slayer passed the Italian the leather-bound book. “Thank you,” the European Watcher buried his head in the book for a few minutes before looking up, his smile broader than ever. “I know where it is.”

* * *

Gwen’s eyes widened as the door to her hotel room burst open. Rising, she watched with concern as her friends stumbled into the room, Angel supported by the other two. “You’re hurt!” she exclaimed.

“No, really?” the demon winced as he was lowered onto his bed. “Thanks for the newsflash, I hadn’t noticed.” The vampire looked towards the room’s fridge. “Some blood?”

“Sure.” Gwen hurried over to the fridge. “Cow’s blood okay?”

“Yeah.” After nodding his thanks, the vampire tore open the packet and began hungrily drinking.

Anxious to look at anything but the feeding demon, Gwen turned towards Connor. Noticing the kid was busily inspecting a hefty tome, she stepped towards him. “That the book?”

Connor glanced up at her. “Yeah, I’m trying to work out what it says.” The youth began reading from the book, his words alien and arcane. Gwen saw Groo’s eyes widen in horror and heard Angel yell in alarm.

And then nothing.

* * *

“Here’s the plan.” Xander looked around the railway station café they were occupying in an attempt to avoid any possible bugs or surveillance. “Katrina, Martina, and Petra will be going in undercover as chamber-maids. Katrina,” he nodded towards the former street waif, “will unlock the fire escape here.” He pointed at the hotel plan. “Allowing June, Tea, Neelam, Salma, and Milla to get in. Martina and Petra will be dealing with the Order’s internal security. Meanwhile Ruby and I will be signing in as a honeymoon couple-.”

“It’s my dream come true,” Ruby cooed breathlessly. “And I want wedding presents!”

Xander rolled his eye at the giggles that ran through the girls. “Slayers,” he muttered before raising his voice. “Shannon, Alex, and Natasha will be outside the front door with Robin playing his girls,” he allowed himself a smirk, “to his pimp-daddy.”

”Still say it’s racial stereo-typing,” the former principal grunted.

“This is all going to cause a big disturbance,” Salma, a curvy, olive-skinned Brazilian in her late teens, pointed out.

“Yep,” Xander nodded. “That’s why Werewolf Oz will be running amok through downtown Prague. Now,” he leaned forward, towards his audience, “any questions?”

* * *

“Shit,” Faith grumbled. “You’d think they’d at least fasten us to their poles and carry us in.”

Her fellow Slayers stared at her in disbelief. After a second, Kennedy spoke. “You’re joking right?”

“Hey, this is my first time captured by a tribe of cannibals,” Faith looked around her tropical surroundings. “I’m kinda jonesing for the full experience.”

“You’re nuts,” Rona commented.

“I resent that!” Faith exclaimed. “My prison shrink told me I was making great strides to mental health!”

“Uh, uh,” Kennedy sounded unconvinced. “Was this before or after you beat his ass?”

”I’m insulted,” Faith protested. “I just broke his thumb, and that was the first shrink on his first visit when he tried to touch my ass.”

“Makes all the difference,” Kennedy scoffed.

“Bite me,” Faith shot back.

“Faith,” Vi had a pained expression. “Cannibals remember. Try not to encourage them.”

”What?” Faith smirked at the tribesmen flanking them. “They seem like a friendly bunch. And,” she winked lewdly at her friends, “from what I’ve seen under their loin-cloths I might come back for a holiday. A whole tribe to myself, oh the possibilities.”

“You’re disgusting,” Kennedy accused.

“Yep,” Faith cheerfully agreed. “But at least I ain’t boring.” Faith fell silent as they entered the village, noting the crowds watching them, looks of curiosity on the onlookers’ faces, and the cone-shaped mud and twig huts. And the cauldrons in the centre of the village, which was a little worrying. “Damn,” she muttered. Maybe this had been a mistake.

* * *

Chamuska looked up from his reciting of the tribal folklore, conscious of the excitement crackling in the air. “Precious ones,” he smiled at the tribe’s children sat at his feet, waiting expectantly for him to continue. Instead he rose, old joints creaking. “I have other matters to attend to.” His smile widened at the chorus of disappointment that greeted his words. “Now then little warriors and little women. I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

His pulse quickened as he entered the village meeting place and saw the four foreign beauties corralled there by the tribe’s excited-looking warriors. All of them had the sleek build of athletes but while three of them warily watched the spearmen surrounding them, the fourth stood with an uncaring air.

“Could it be,” he croaked through suddenly drying lips as he recognised the quartet. Gathering his courage, he pushed through the crowd of warriors. “Faith!” he bellowed the young woman’s name.

The woman turned towards him, a quizzical expression on her face. “That’s me, hon. And how in the hell do you speak English?”

Chamuska smiled mysteriously. “I don’t,” he turned to the hunting party leader. “Untie them,” he ordered.

The hunter’s face blanched at being ordered by his tribal shaman but shook his head. “They are healthy women, will bear the tribe many fine children!”

“No!” he shouted back. “They have a far greater purpose!”

“What ya talking about?”

Chamuska turned back to Faith, surprised that she would dare to interrupt men. Deciding her culture must be very different to his, he pointed at the bonds around the beauty’s wrists. “I was telling them to unfasten you.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened when the raven-haired woman forced her wrists apart, snapping the ropes. “Is that all?” Even as he gaped in awe at the young woman’s power, the tribe’s warriors hurried forward, their spears probing. “You want me to shove that spear up your ass, boy?” Faith drawled.

“No! Wait!” Chamuska hurried forward to stand beside Faith. “They are the Chosen!” The tribesmen immediately dropped to their knees, their faces pressing into the grass.

“Well finally!” Faith exulted before glancing at her three fellow amazons. “I told ya all that once they noticed my hotness they’d be on their knees. Although usually I don’t mean literally.”

Chamuska stared at the brunette. He understood the words but not the gibberish she was saying. Deciding the language must have changed since the days of the prophecy, he grabbed the Chosen’s forearm. “Come with me!” he ordered.

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Damn!” she growled. “Don’t think I’m not grateful. But your wrinkly ass ain’t dragging me to no cave. You dig?”

Again Chamuska was more than a little confused by the young woman’s words. “The reason why you are here is over here!”

The young woman exchanged looks with her companions. “In that case, lead on MacDuff.”

“My name is Chamuska not MacDuff,” he stiffly corrected.

Faith snorted. “My mistake. Lead on, Chamuska.”

After a nod to his fellow tribesmen, he guided the four foreign amazons through the suddenly hushed village and to the caves situated at the rear. The Chosen followed him inside the caves only to stop dead. “Oh my god!” exclaimed the red-head.

“I…it’s,” Faith reached up to stroke one of the four portraits decorating the cave walls. “Us.”

“Really?” he commented. “I hadn’t noticed.” Swallowing slightly under the Chosen’s collective glare, he continued. “Many centuries ago, legend has it a wizened old woman came here and told us that three warriors of the light would come here, led by another woman, once evil, but now a champion of good, named Faith. She did a spell that would allow us to understand your language when you came and put your likeness on the walls here,” he glanced at their surroundings, “and ensure that the pictures would never fade, serving as a reminder of our duty. Since that time, my tribe has guarded this.” He reached into the darkness. The book the witch had placed there centuries ago appeared in his hand. “And now it is yours.”

Faith stared at the book for a long moment before taking the leather-bound volume. “This witch, what was her name?” the brunette warrior asked.

“She called herself Willow.”

”What!” The other three girls screamed, in contrast Faith just nodded.

“Kinda figured it had to be. That much power.” The girl glanced at him. “Thanks wise guy.” Chamuska nodded before heading towards the entrance. “You not staying?”

Chamuska turned back to the Chosen. “No,” he replied. “Willow left instructions that the book should only be read in the presence of the four.” He smiled as he remembered something else. “The wise woman also said to believe in yourself and him.”

The brunette looked confused. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “That’s all she said.”

* * *

Faith stared after the wizened man for a second, mulling over his words before shaking her head reaching for the back. She turned to Kennedy when the other Slayer grabbed her wrist. “Yeah?”

Red’s girl-friend bit her bottom lip at Faith’s tone but to her credit held steady. “What if it’s a trap? I mean, Willow here?”

“Look at the portraits,” she pointed at the cavern paintings. “Red knew we were gonna be here. She trusted us. Time to trust her.” Opening the book, she began to read from it, the arcane words printed there for some reason making sense. Suddenly a bright light enveloped her.

* * *

”Take a right here,” the Immortal instructed.

Buffy looked around their surroundings, a deserted subway tunnel, the stench of oil heavy in the air. “What I don’t understand,” she commented as she entered an unused workmen’s tunnel. “How can these directions,” she ducked beneath an over-hanging pipe, perspiring slightly at the scalding heat. “Be so accurate?”

Her Watcher and lover shrugged. “The prophecy perhaps?”

“What if it’s a trap?” Michelle queried.

Buffy chuckled. “Then if they’re really lucky they’ll live to regret it.”

“We’re here,” the Immortal announced.

Buffy looked around. They were in a dead end. “Where’s here?”

“According to this,” Buffy’s eyes widened when her boy-friend took a breath and reached into the brick wall and pulled out a book, “the next piece of the puzzle.” The Italian opened the book, and shook his head. “I can’t read this.” He passed her the book. “See if you can.”

Taking a breath, she opened the book, and squinted. For some reason, the words inside made a strange sense. Somehow compelled, she began to read. Suddenly the world exploded in light.