Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

Hellraiser: The Angels Beneath

Chapter 3


“Xan, don’t be so stupid,” Spike reasoned.

“I’m not being stupid. I’m going. I have to find out what’s going on.”

“He’s gone round the bloody twist, that’s what’s going on. Wait ‘til the sun sets and I’ll go. I’ll fucking teach him to hit one of his friends.”

“Gods, Spike, please don’t get all growly again. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve gotten a lot worse.”

“Ain’t the point…”

“No, the point is that he is my friend and he’s in trouble. You didn’t hear him, Spike. He sounded so…”

“Fucked? Crazy? Off his nut?!”

Xander glared and slid his jacket on. “Desperate. I’m really worried. I *know* there’s something going on and I’m going to turn that house upside down until I find it.”

“Well, then, at least wait ‘til I can come with you.”

“It will be too late by then. Riley and Buffy are at work. I have to do this now.”

“What, you gonna just break in?”

“Nope. Stole the spare key.”

“Oh well, that’s okay then,” Spike said, sarcastically. “You sure they’re gonna be out?”

“Positive. Buffy called while you were sleeping. She told me.”

“She fucking apologise for her wanker of a boyfriend, too?”

“I don’t think she knows. Spike, Riley was so wasted; I doubt he remembers a thing.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Spike.”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Go then. But be bloody careful. Don’t let that fucking waste of space catch you rummaging. For his sake, don’t let him catch you, because I’m telling you, if he touches you again, the old Spike is gonna make an appearance and even you won’t be able to stop me.”

Spike’s expression said that he was deadly serious and Xander knew better than to challenge him. Spike was no longer a cold blooded killer, but he was still a killer. If Riley hurt him again, he had no doubt that Spike would fuck Riley up good and proper.

Xander stepped forward and gave Spike a tender kiss, allowing his love and thanks to show in a wordless communication.

“I will be careful. You have my word.”

Spike nodded and watched his lover leave. He really couldn’t give a fuck about Riley, but Buffy was his friend. He hoped Xander would find something to help her.

**

Xander let himself inside the house and started to look around. He tried to remember the things Riley had shouted at him the night before, anything that could tell him what to look for. Riley had been frightened that Xander was going to take something from him. The box? What box? Xander shrugged to himself and started the search. He would look for a box, any box. It was a start, at least. He started in the living room, carefully rummaging through drawers and cupboards, mindful to leave everything just as he’d found it. The search turned up nothing, literally. Now that Xander was really looking, he realised how empty the apartment was. It wasn’t a home, it was an empty space. Furniture all virtually brand new, nothing old or treasured, no ornaments or pictures on the wall. There were no photos in frames adorning the walls and surfaces. There was no nothing. Even the drawers and cupboards were nearly empty, with only neatly piled bills and receipts inside.

Xander climbed the stairs and entered the next most likely room, a guest bedroom that had been converted into a study for Riley. Xander repeated his search pattern, checking surfaces and all visible areas first. Nothing. Drawers and cupboards, nothing. He walked behind the desk, sat on the chair and sighed. Maybe he wasn’t going to find anything. He had only the main bedroom, bathroom and kitchen left to search. Maybe the bathroom would at least reveal medication that Riley might be on. Could you get drugs for being a delusional, drink obsessed prick? Xander cursed at himself. That wasn’t a nice thing to think. Riley hadn’t always been this way. It wasn’t his fault.

Xander got up to search the bedroom when something suddenly caught his eye. The edge of a small piece of paper was sticking out from just under the desk. There was another drawer. It was slim and almost hidden, fitting just below the desk’s surface. Xander pulled on the tiny latch, but the drawer was locked. He considered forcing it with a blade, but decided against it. It would only leave evidence that it had been tampered with and that, of course, meant that Buffy would get the blame. And besides, the only box inside could be a matchbox, the drawer was so small.

Still, there was always that little bit of paper that was sticking out. It was awfully tempting. After all, he could always just slip it back in afterwards if it was nothing. Xander gripped the tip of the paper and slowly pulled it out, his hand starting to shake for a reason unknown. He turned the paper over and drew in an amazed breath at what he saw. It was a sketch. A beautiful, intricate, pencil-drawn sketch of a box. Xander skimmed two shaking fingers over the drawing. It was like nothing he’d ever seen. He had no idea what it was or what it meant, but something told him that it was significant.

His cell phone suddenly rang and Xander nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced at the display before he answered it and saw that it was Spike.

“Hey, what’s up? ... She is? … When? … Now?! … Yeah, I’ll leave … Yes, right now … Um, maybe. I’m not sure. I’ll show you when I get back … You too, bye.”

Xander pocketed his cell phone and folded up the sketch. Making sure everything was as he'd found it, Xander made a quick exit before Buffy returned. He’d found something. He just knew it.

**

“Took your sweet time,” Spike grumbled as Xander came through the door.

Xander ignored him. He knew that Spike was just worried. In Spike’s world, a grumble was as good as a warm embrace.

“Yeah, well, I ran into Buffy on the way. She was quicker than I thought.”

“She suspect?”

“'Course not. Why would she?”

Spike shrugged and sat back on the couch. “Women. They know bloody everything. So, what did you find out?”

“I’m not sure that I actually found out anything. Maybe…I don’t know. I don’t even know why I took it. I should have just left it.”

“Turning into a klepto, eh? I’m delighted,” Spike teased.

Xander sat down heavily next to Spike and took the drawing out of his pocket. He carefully unfolded it and handed it over. “I found this. When Riley started to freak out last night, he was shouting about a box. He thought I wanted to take it from him. Do you think this might be it? …Spike? …Spike, are you listening?”

Spike stared at the picture, a thousand thoughts rushing through his brain at breakneck speed. Xander had found something, alright. A terrible thought crossed Spike’s mind and he grabbed Xander’s arm, pulling him closer.

“Did you touch it?!”

“What?! Of course I did. How else would I have got it home?”

Xander stared back at his lover. Spike looked absolutely enraged. His face held its demon form and Xander felt himself trying to shrink away.

“You brought it home? You brought it here?!” Logic should have told Spike that Xander had brought nothing back but the picture, but his fear had taken over and he couldn’t hear anything except the worst. He gripped Xander’s arms painfully tight, fixing him with a burning gold glare. “Where is it?! What happened? Fuck sake, Xander, tell me you didn’t open it. Please, fuck, tell me!”

“Ow! Let up, Spike. Please calm down. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I thought you meant the picture. I didn’t bring anything else back.”

Spike relaxed slightly before growling and gripping tighter than ever. “But did you see it?!”

“Spike, please let go. I didn’t see anything. Only the picture. Spike..?!”

“Are you sure you didn’t see it?! Did you fucking touch it?!”

“Touch what?!”

“THE FUCKING BOX!”

“NO! I DIDN’T TOUCH THE FUCKING BOX! I DIDN’T OPEN THE FUCKING BOX. THERE. WASN’T. ANY. FUCKING. BOX.! SO, GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”

Spike let go and paced over to the kitchen. He leant on the counter and silently placed his head in his hands.

“Spike? What’s going on?”

Spike looked up at his lover. Xander stood in the same spot, rubbing his abused arms. His voice had turned from angry to hurt. Spike cursed himself. Of course Xander didn’t understand. Why would he? “Come here,” he said.

Xander stared back dubiously. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing, pet. Swear it. Just come here.”

Xander nodded and walked forward, Spike coming half way to meet him in the middle of the room.

“I just have to be sure, luv. You didn’t see the box, the box in the picture?”

Xander shook his head. “No. What’s going on?”

Spike didn’t answer. He needed more than just words to express his remorse for his behaviour. If Xander had taken that box, if he’d opened it… It didn’t bear thinking about. He placed his hands on Xander’s jaw and took his lips in a kiss that was pure passion, pure love and pure adoration.

Xander barely had time to moan into the kiss before he felt his shirt being tugged off. He opened his eyes and saw that Spike was back in gameface, his eyes burning with desire instead of anger. Xander gripped the hem of Spike’s t-shirt and yanked it up and over his head.

Spike growled and pushed Xander back on the couch, soon ridding his human lover of his boots and socks. He crawled up his Xander’s body and ripped at the fastenings of his pants. Pulling them down as much as he could with one tug, he gripped Xander’s shaft and kissed him fast and hard, fisting the large cock with a mind to bringing Xander to completion at an almost painful pace.

Spike cried out with surprise and pleasure as he felt Xander’s hand curl around his aching length. He stroked Xander harder and faster, enjoying the wild body bucking helplessly beneath him.

Xander gripped tightly to soft blond curls, keeping Spike lips firmly in place at his mouth. He panted loudly into the kiss, moaning and nipping, his hips desperately thrusting up to increase the pace further.

Spike growled again. Picking up pre-cum with his other hand, he quickly reached around Xander’s body and breached his tight hole with two fingers. Xander sucked in a quick breath against the painful intrusion, crying out as the fingers twisted and pushed inside him. With a snarl, Spike pushed Xander’s hand away from his cock and Xander felt his pants being dragged the rest of the way off. His legs were lifted onto Spike’s shoulders and the blunt head of a straining erection was positioned at his ass. With a grunt from both men, Spike slammed himself inside, taking Xander’s shaft in his hand again and stroking it hard in time with his thrusts.

Xander moaned and pushed back onto Spike’s cock, his need to come so strong that he would have killed for it. He gripped the pale hand that held his length and pumped himself faster and harder, pushing his ass back to take Spike as deeply as he could. Spike bared gleaming white fangs, his breath barely in control as he twisted and slammed himself into Xander’s welcoming body. With a cry that echoed around the house, Xander came over Spike’s hand, his ass clenching tightly around Spike’s cock. Spike thrust one last time, breaking through the clenched muscle and coming deep inside Xander’s body. As his seed spilled into Xander’s channel, he fell forward, releasing Xander’s legs and burying his fangs into his lover’s neck.

Xander gasped again, fresh pain assaulting a different part of his body as Spike’s fangs slid beneath his skin. He wrapped his arms and legs around his love and allowed the pull of his blood to lull him into a pleasant unconsciousness.

**

Spike propped himself up on one elbow and ran his other hand over Xander’s chest. “Alright, pet?”

“Mmm, good. I love it when we fight,” Xander replied through a sleepy mist.

Spike laughed for only a moment before he turned a serious expression on his dazed lover. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Shhh, Spike, don’t…”

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I hurt you.”

“Stop, Spike. You didn’t hurt me. I…”

Spike ran his hand over a darkening bruise on Xander arm. “What’s that, then? I did that.”

“Yeah, you did. But you didn’t do that to deliberately hurt me. You were just freaking out…”

“Like Riley did? There’s me threatening to use one of his legs for a cricket bat and I go and do the same thing.”

Xander sat up and pulled Spike to his side, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. “That wasn’t the same. Riley was drunk and he took a swing at me. You were angry and worried and you so didn’t hit me. You didn’t even try. I know you wouldn’t. You just have to remember sometimes that I’m human. Breakable, here. Don’t squeeze so tight, next time.”

Spike nodded and pressed his face into Xander’s neck, breathing in the scent of the person he loved more than any other.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what got you so worked up? I’ve kinda caught on that it’s something to do with this weirdo box, but I think you need to fill me in on the rest.”

Spike nodded again and pulled away, standing and offering his hand to help Xander do the same. “I think we’d better shower and dress first.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s someone we need to go see.”

**

“Ah, Xander, Spike. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Xander shrugged and stepped through the door, Spike following close behind with a more than serious look on his face. “Dunno, G-man. Better ask the secretive one, here.”

Giles looked to Spike and raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “Spike?”

“Reckon we might have a problem.”

“Really? Can’t say I’m surprised. What’s happened?”

Spike unfolded the sketch and held it out for Giles to take.

“What’s this?” Giles asked as he adjusted his glasses and focused on the drawing. “Fuck.”

“Giles!” Xander exclaimed. It was very rare for Giles to swear. In fact, the first and only other time Xander had heard him properly curse was when the Watcher had dropped a copy of the Demon Index on his foot.

“I apologise, Xander, but…Spike? Where did you find this? Is the box here, in Sunnydale?”

“I think so,” Spike answered. “I intend to bloody well find out, though.”

“Not so fast, Spike. I think we’d better do some research. I know enough to recognise this for what it is and I know that the consequences of opening it are dire, but I think we should read up as much as we can. Plus, I want to know everything about this drawing. Wherever did you find it?”

Spike motioned with his head. “Xan found it.”

“Good Lord!” Giles rushed forward and grabbed Xander’s arm. “Did you see any sign of the actual box?!”

“Hey!” Xander cried, wrenching his arm away and backing up. “What is it with you people? Can you not ask a question from a distance?! Jeez!”

“I apologise, Xander. That was terribly rude. I just need to know where you found this drawing. It’s very important.”

“Yeah, so I gathered already. I’ll tell you all about that,” Xander said, motioning to the drawing, “after you tell me what the hell is going on. What’s the big deal with a stupid box?”

Giles folded the drawing back up and sighed. “It opens a doorway to Hell.”

“Oh.”

**

Giles returned from upstairs with a large, serious looking tome. He walked to the couch and placed the open book onto Xander’s lap.

“Hey, that’s the box. What is it? I mean, you mentioned Hell, but…how?”

“It’s called the Lament Configuration. It’s a puzzle box of sorts.”

Xander held the book closer and examined the picture. Although the drawing he’d found at Riley’s was well done, this picture was even more detailed and in colour. It showed the box from all six of its sides and also showed other puzzle type objects that were similar in design, but held different shapes. “What are these?” he asked, pointing at one of the objects.

“They are all the same thing.”

“The box?” Xander was confused and Spike cut in.

“Think of it like a Rubik’s cube. You turn it and it moves.”

“And you can make it change shape?”

“Yeah, if you’re unlucky.”

“And then what? You get Hell? Why would you do that?”

Spike looked at Giles. “Time for a complete rundown, Ripper.”

Giles scowled at the name, but sat in the chair opposite to tell the story as he knew it. “The box was fashioned in 1740 by an architect, artist and designer by the name of Philip Lemarchand. He was a man driven to madness by his own repeated failures, trapped in his own personal hell as he tried time and time again to recreate his bizarre visions. Unfortunately for the world, his prayers for success were finally answered when he found himself in possession of strange material, said to be the perfect substance to create his most desired work of art.”

“To make the box?” Xander asked.

“Yes. But it wasn’t as straightforward as that. The substance had to be turned into a different state in order for it to be usable, for it to be twisted and carved into the box. This process involved boiling the unknown material in a vat of human fat.”

“Euw.”

“Quite.”

“Should I ask where he got the fat from?”

“Probably not, Xander, but I’ll tell you anyway. His unfortunate assistant was the first ‘sacrifice’ to Lemarchand’s cause. Of course, it took many attempts before the ‘nutty professor’ perfected his methods. His alchemy skills had improved tenfold by his fifth kill. One day, many, many murders later, his efforts were finally successful and he produced his first puzzle box. The Lament Configuration.”

“And did nobody realise that people were being murdered left, right and centre?” Xander asked with puzzled frown.

“Oh, people noticed the disappearances, certainly, but Lemarchand was a very clever man. He covered his tracks well.”

“So there are more?”

“*Many* more. Lemarchand travelled the world, achieving fame and glory from his creations. He started by creating more of his original design and eventually moved on to make other boxes -- The Jeremiad Enigma, The Triumph of Judas and The Hollow Heart to name just a few, all bastard offspring of the original and all made to do virtually the same horrific deed.”

“Which is?”

“To damn the opener to an eternity of hell. As you know, Xander, there are many different hells. The Lament Configuration opens a gateway to Hell's Corridors, the home of Leviathan. But the box can also open doors to other hells, too.”

“And how does it do all this?”

“I have no idea of how it physically works, but the basic premise is that you solve the puzzle to open the gates. Each different configuration that you see there opens a different gate. ”

Xander stared down at the illustrations. “How would you know where to start? It looks so complicated. Rubik’s cube, my ass.”

“Thank the gods it is more than complicated, otherwise people would be constantly opening it. It seems to work on a mechanism. You push certain pieces, turn others. Some pieces need no more than a simple touch. It’s almost as if the pull and promise of the box leads the way to solving it.”

“Okay, so I’ve lived on a Hellmouth all my life. Shouldn’t I at least have heard of it?”

Giles shook his head. “Be glad that you haven’t, Xander. It is usually only scholars and a few unfortunates who know about it.”

Xander looked at Spike. “How do you know about it?”

Spike shrugged. “I know everything.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Once.”

Giles leant forward. “How fascinating.”

“It weren’t bloody fascinating. It was sodding terrifying!”

“What happened?” Xander asked.

“Mate of mine. Picked the box up when we were in Turkey. We did a bit of research, found out what it was. I didn’t want to touch it. Didn’t want none of that shit. But Laslo, he wanted it, wanted what was inside. He always was a perverted bastard. So he spent months trying to figure out how to open it. One night, he did it. Never seen anything fucking like it. Never want to see it again.”

“What did you see?”

“Pain. The worst kind. You know me, luv, I like a bit of torture, but that was…I don’t know what that was.”

“Spike, how did you get away?” Giles asked.

“Easy, opening the box calls them. I didn’t open it, therefore I didn’t call them. They weren’t interested in me.”

“So, did your friend know what he was getting into?” Xander asked.

“Yup.”

Xander’s eyes widened. “Then why did he do it?”

“The box promises extreme pleasure and pain,” Giles explained. “Some people find themselves drawn to that. Many take it too far, as I’m sure Spike’s friend did. He was taken in by the chance to taste pleasures beyond the normal realm of sensation.”

Xander looked to Spike for a translation.

“He wanted better jollies.”

“Oh, I think I get that, kinda. So did he…enjoy what happened?”

Spike looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure. Laslo was into pain in a big way, but I reckon even he got more than he bargained for.”

“And, I’m sorry but I have to ask, what did they do? And who are *they*?”

“Question is, what didn’t they do? Just picture lots of chains, spikes, hooks and soul taking. And *they* are called the Cenobites. The Angels of Suffering. My mate, Laslo, became one of them. Like I said, he was a perverted bastard, even by my standards. Greedy fucker spent his life killing and raping. For a demon with a soul, he was pretty evil. So when he opened the gate to Hell's Corridors, the Cenobites took him over to their side, showed him the most fantastic pleasure he could ever know, then they turned him into one of them. They gutted him and sewed his eyes shut. The poor fucker had the memory of what pure pleasure could be, but he was forced to live his existence in servitude to Leviathan, in perpetual pain and suffering.”

Giles crossed the room and turned a few pages of the book on Xander’s lap. “That is a Cenobite.”

Xander screwed up his nose. “I assume this isn’t Laslo, being that his eyes aren’t sewn shut.”

“No,” Giles answered. “This is, or should I say was, Captain Elliot Spencer. He opened the box sometime shortly after the First World War. The war fulfilled many of his fantasies; bloodshed, killing, torturing the enemy. So when the war ended he sought out his fantasies elsewhere. That was when he found the box, somewhere in the Middle East. He paid a great deal for it and spent many months afterwards trying to open it. When he did, he discovered the Corridors of Hell. Leviathan was so impressed by Captain Spencer’s eagerness and tolerance for pain that he made him into his Lord of the Damned, The Dark Prince of Pain. He ruled the Corridors from that day. His nickname is Pinhead.”

“You don’t say,” Xander remarked, looking at the picture.

Spike looked over Xander’s shoulder. “That’s Laslo,” he said, pointing to a picture of a large misshapen creature with sunglasses on.

“Great. You’ll have a good rapport if we bump into them.”

Giles snatched the book back. “We’ll look more into this later. For now, I want to know where you got this drawing, Xander.”

Xander looked quickly at Spike before he answered. “Riley’s. I found it at Riley’s. I went there to see if I could find out why he was acting so weird and he kinda went off the handle. He kept shouting about a box. He was frightened that I would take it. He said he would kill me if I did. Then I went back today. I let myself in and went through their stuff. I found the drawing in Riley’s desk.”

Giles stared out the window, taking in everything Xander saying. There was almost no doubt. The box was home.

TBC…