Shadows

Disclaimer: See Prelude
Author’s Notes:
Feedback: Same holds for flames, though I am thinking of other vengeance methods, suggestions welcome. Angel’s problem doesn’t apply here, we do have chainsaws now. Once again, those that are civil, are my friend.

On with the tale…

Shadows
The Alternate Tale of Three Witches

Chapter Two: Golden

December, 1999

‘Another meaningless blessing…’ Tara pretended to be reverent during the invocation of nothing. ‘All they do is talk, talk, plan bake sales, and talk.’ She griped to herself as she wrote down spell ingredients.
“I think we should have a bake sale.” The nil chanter of them said.
Tara rolled her eyes. ‘See! Another bake sale…hmm…topaz or amethyst? Amethyst, good for psychic awareness.’ Tara glanced up at them and then back down at her paper. ‘There’s the wacky notion of spells…’
“Well, there’s that wacky notion of spells.” The redhead over by the window said. Tara looked up interested. “Y’know, conjuring, transmutation.” She said.
Tara’s interest was piqued, one of the other women was already criticizing and mocking the redhead. ‘Fools,’ she thought. ‘The wouldn’t know a real witch unless she was green and melting.’
“I think that—“ Tara tried to say but was cut off. She hung her head down again, looking at her notebook, specifically the word Topaz. ‘Damnit! It’s hard enough for me to get my point across, I don’t need to be interrupted as well.’
Tara took a deep breath and looked up once her interrupter finished talking. “Well, m-maybe we c-could—“ Tara was cut off again. ‘I swear I’ll turn her into a newt!’ She ranted angrily to herself.
“Yeah? Tara? Guys, quiet. Do you have a suggestion?” She asked Tara.
Tara looked around nervously, unsure about talking now that everyone was listening. She smiled shyly and looked down, shaking her head. ‘Great, she just had to put me on the spot, I sure love that! That’s right. I’m Miss Popularity…’ Tara looked up once the group moved on and focused on the redhead. ‘She might be for real…unlike these wannablessedbe’s…’
Tara then saw a petite blonde over in the corner watching the redhead. The blonde made eye contact with Tara and the shy witch looked down. ‘I swear…why do I come to these meetings? They’re all talk. Blah, blah, Gaia. Blah, blah, moon. Menstrual life force power thingy…I swear…every girl nowadays with a henna tattoo and a spice rack thinks she’s a sister to the dark ones.’ Tara looked back up and made eye contact with the blonde in the corner again. She smiled shyly at her and looked back at her spell. ‘Maybe Topaz…damn, I sure need the social strength from it…’

Tara’s hand skittered across the paper, continuously writing down her essay for her finals. Pop Culture, the topic. So luckily, that meant she could write with all the jargon and colloquialisms she wanted to. She grinned at her work and put her pen and pencil down. “Job well done.” She said to herself, though no sound came out. Her face screwed up in curiosity. “Um…why can’t I hear myself?” She tried to say out loud.
Glancing at the clock she saw it the time read 3:13 in the morning. Tara stood up and looked around her room for her spell books and various reference books. Lo and behold, they were scattered everywhere. She headed over to her books and saw her Grimm’s fairy tales book open.
The sorceress picked it up deftly and looked at the page it was open to. “The Gentlemen…” she attempted to say out loud. “ Can't even shout, can't even cry. The gentlemen are coming by, looking in windows, knocking on doors. They need to take seven and they might take yours. Can't call to mom, can't say a word. You're gonna die screaming but you won't be heard…” She attempted to read aloud.
Tara ran over the words in her head over and over. ‘Can’t even shout, can’t even cry…Can’t call to mom, can’t say a word. You’re gonna die screaming but you won’t be heard…’ She gasped. ‘And we can’t talk…’ She looked out her window at the bell tower, night still all around. ‘And they’re here…’

“C’mon god damnit!” Tara tried to yell out loud but to no luck. She threw the book aside and continued looking for a spell to return their voices, or at least hers, so she could scream and kill these guys. ‘Wait, who’s gonna help me with the spell?’ she asked herself and looked over at one of her notebooks on the table. A note laid across it, haphazardly folded. Tara opened it up and saw a name scribbled across it in a writing that wasn’t her own. ‘“Willow Rosenberg & Buffy Summers 216 Stevenson Hall. Call us sometime’ it read. ‘Nothing I can do tonight…except maybe check to see if the Gentlemen are really here…’

The blonde Wicca left her dorm, her dagger hidden in her jacket’s pocket. ‘Okay, looking for creepy things. Kinda like Nosferatu meets Hellraiser by way of the Joker.’ She thought, smirking at her description. She left the commons and headed out into the street, the clock tower behind her. ‘Why am I doing this? This is foolish, legend goes only a scream will kill them, and I can’t scream. I can’t talk, I can’t whisper.’ She drew her dagger silently, holding it at the ready.
A beastly man in straightjacket lunged forward to tackle Tara. The witch flipped him over her shouldered and threw him against the ground. In a quick motion she buried it the creature’s forehead, killing him instantly. She stood up grinning, in her eyes lay a gleam of pure intensity. ‘Cause it’s fun, now I remember.’
Tara continued on until she saw two of the Gentlemen and four of the henchmen approaching her. ‘Shit…not fun.’ She turned on her heel and took off running, almost tripping over the dead body of the henchman she killed. She jumped over him and kept running. ‘Not gonna die, not gonna die…’ she chanted in her head as she threw open the common’s door.
Tearing up the stairs to her dorm she unlocked it and fell into it, slamming the door behind her. “Stretta!” She tried to yell to invoke her spell but no sound came out. The trip-word succeeded and the spell activated. Wind whipped past her from behind and hit the door, forming ice all over the joints and surfaces, freezing it shut. The Gentlemen weren’t getting through.
Tara laid back panting, her hand clutching her pentacle around her neck. The spell changed the color of her eyes from their normal warm blue to the tones of icy blue crystals. She didn’t make a notion to move to her bed even though she’d be up in three hours. Her hair shifted back to blonder tones instead of the bleach blonde it became at the roots from spell casting.

Tara got up when the sun filtered in through her blinds and into her warm blue eyes. She groaned and got up shakily. ‘Note to self, don’t be dumb. Chasing down hell beasts unprepared definitely qualifies for dumb.’ She thought to herself, changing into clean clothes. “Rilascio.” She tried to say, but failed. The second trip-word worked as well and the ice melted away dryly.

The blonde witch walked through the commons, text books in her arms. She looked left and right through the silent room. Couples clinging to each other for dear life, dumbstruck people, depressed people. A man dropped his glass Mountain Dew bottle, shattering it. She sound caused everyone to jump, including Tara. ‘Since when do they make Mountain Dew in glass bottles?’ She thought to herself. ‘Well, I don’t see Willow or Buffy…better move on.’ Tara left the building without much thought other than her current train of.

That night, she laid in her bed, dagger on her stomach for safety reasons. Tara read through another spell book she picked up that day at the Magic Shop. ‘Got it!’ She mentally exclaimed and she bookmarked the page, along with the page on the Gentlemen in her fairy tales book. ‘Got the spell that lets us talk and all the info on these old guys. I pray to the goddess that they believe me…’ Tara thought and she picked up her books and left her dorm quickly.

Hurrying, not wanting another confrontation with the Gentlemen, Tara took long strides across the lawn. She thought she heard something behind her so she turned to look. Nothing was there, but in her paranoia, Tara didn’t notice a bench in front of her and she tripped over it, landing on her ass. ‘Son of a bitch…’ she thought to herself. Standing up, she dusted herself off and glanced behind her, seeing two gentlemen with their henchmen. ‘Son of a bitch.’ She thought again and took off running, only to run into henchmen trying to attack a blonde woman. ‘Son of a bitch!’ She punched it in the face and kicked it do the ground. The other blonde and Tara both plunged their weapons into its chest simultaneously. The thing gasped and convulsed, dying quickly. The blondes stood up and Tara brushed some of her hair behind her ear. She took a good look at the other blonde. “Buffy?” She mouthed out.
Buffy nodded. “Tara?” Tara nodded and took a deep breath.
“I know what’s going on.” She said in sign language.
Buffy bit her lower lip in a slightly embarrassed way and mouthed out: “I don’t know sign language.”
Tara sighed. “Okay…The Gentlemen…” She mouthed out, stressing each syllable. Buffy nodded, understanding.
“I know...gotta get my voice back.” She mouthed out.
Tara nodded. “We have to talk, later.”
Buffy nodded in agreement. “Get to Willow.”
Tara nodded and took off running towards Stevenson Hall. ‘Why did I wear a skirt?’ She thought to herself, her books under her arm.

Throwing the doors to the Hall open she glanced back to see a pair of Gentlemen hot on her tail. Tara took off running again and ignored the doors to the right or left of her. ‘216…216…second floor, 16th room, meaning 8th on the right side. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, only to drop her books. She reached the landing and ran again. The gentlemen still behind her and she couldn’t go for the books. ‘210…212…214…216!’ She started banging on the door, causing the frame to shake. No one was answering however. ‘Come on!’. She hit harder, denting the wood. “WILLOW!” She tried to scream but to no avail.
One of the henchmen tackled her from the side but she kept standing. Tara grabbed him by his neck and threw him aside, her other hand letting loose her dagger, piercing him in the throat. The Gentlemen kept coming. ‘Oh gods…come on…’
The door flung open and Willow came out just as Tara started to run. The two witches hit the ground hard and Tara was the first up again. She grabbed the redhead’s wrist and helped her up. They took off running down the hall, Tara stooping only to pluck up her dagger from the henchmen’s throat.
They ran down the stairwell and into the laundry room, one way in, one way out. Willow stopped running and tried to push a vending machine to block the door.
A henchmen pounded against the door as Tara held it closed. She saw an emergency axe on the wall. ‘Perfect.’ She thought to herself as she punched through the glass on the wall. Grabbing the axe she swung overhead and severed henchmen’s head as it pushed its way through. The body fell lifeless to the ground and Tara kicked it out of the way.
The blonde sorceress dropped the axe and ran over to Willow, who had given up and clutching her injured ankle. Willow stared at the vending machine and it started to shake. Willow gasped for breath and leaned back, giving up. Tara slipped her hand to Willow’s and intertwined their fingers. They looked at each other and then back at the machine. It lifted off the ground and crashed into the door, blocking it effectively. They started panting and laid back against the wall.

“You were looking for me?” Willow asked Tara, the next day when they could speak. The witches walked through the commons, looking for someplace to sit.
Tara nodded. “B-B-Buffy sent me. I thought m-m-maybe we could do a spell…make people talk again.” Tara replied. The two women sat down next to each other. Tara turned in her seat, facing Willow. “I’d seen you in the-the group. The W-Wicca group? You were-You were different from them. I mean, they didn’t seem to know…”
“What they were talking about?” Willow ventured. Tara smiled and nodded. ‘Damn, why is it so hard talking to her? Talking to anyone?’ Tara thought to herself.
“I think if they saw a witch, they would, um, run the other way.” Tara laughed nervously at her own joke. ‘And there folks, is my degrading sense of comedy. Shakespeare move over and beware.’ She thought disapprovingly.
“Here, here.” A woman’s voice said and the owner plopped down next to Willow. It was Buffy. ‘How did she fight so well last night?’
“Hey Buffy…” Willow said, smiling at her. Buffy smiled back.
“How did you f-fight so w-well last n-night?” Tara asked, clearly in awe of the petite blonde.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. You fight like you’ve known how you’re entire life.” Buffy responded.
Tara shook her head embarrassedly and looked down. ‘Geeze Tara, never heard a compliment that’s not from a teacher before?’ She thought scathingly to herself at her embarrassment. She looked back up at Buffy. “Only since June of th-this year…and that came kinda n-natural…”
“Really? June this year?” Willow asked, a analytical look on her face.
Tara nodded. “The day b-before the high school bur-burned d-down.” She stuttered out. ‘They are probably thinking something like ‘what a freak, she can’t even talk right…glad she can cast spells or fight or we’d have nothing to do with her…’ more degrading thoughts about herself. “I-I was m-meditating in my dorm a-and I suddenly felt l-like my n-nerves were on f-fire.” Tara tried to explain.
Buffy moved so she was sitting next to the sorceress. “Kinda like the Quickening in Highlander?” She asked Tara.
Tara smiled. ‘Holy shit, she understands me. She is the first. Ever. She had to use a movie reference to do it, but she did. But hey, Highlander is like the coolest movie too.’ “Yeah, that’s exactly what it was like. It hurt, too. I don’t think people should ever have to deal with that.”
Buffy nodded, a serious look on her face as well as Willow’s. “Yeah…only one in a generation…”