Visionary Kiss I & II & III
folder
BtVS Crossovers › Misc - Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
50
Views:
3,173
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS Crossovers › Misc - Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
50
Views:
3,173
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Visionary Kiss III 8
Visionary Kiss III 8
HAMUNAPTRA RUINS, THE CITY OF THE DEAD, - NIGHT
The beauty and her shadow ran out into the night and moved quickly through the camp. Lock-nah was holding the Book of The Dead in his hand, while she was fighting with the weight of the golden book.
The turbaned chauffeur stood motionlessly next to a beige-colored Rolls-Royce. He bowed to his mistress and opened the car door, as Meela and her Bodyguard got closer. The driver did not hear the horrible screams of pain and fear that echoed through the city of dead.
“Not yet”, she said and walked straight towards the pit, which had been supervised by the Curator. She could see the little man with the red headgear at the next excavation, and the crane setting down a large object, a rock.
“They used the golden Book to defeat Imhotep? To curse him, right?” asked Meela Lock-nah.
“Yes this is the way it’s told, Milady!”
“So that means this book is the only thing on earth that can harm him? Right?”
“Yes Milady.”
Meela stopped at the pit, from which a disgusting smell of burned flesh and bugs was coming. As if disposing a used handkerchief, she threw the valuable book into the smoky darkness of the hole. Without wasting a thought on the metallic crunch of the beetles beneath her feet the woman and her shadow walked away. Meela did not even notice the three men in the jeep who watched and were now commenting on her actions.
“Did you see that?” Jacques asked.
“The damn thing is made out of gold! The Book was made out of pure gold!” was Spivey’s answer.
A still shaking Red sitting behind the steering wheel, mopped the sweat off his forehead, nodding towards the pit. “So why don’t you just jump into that hole and get the book girls?”
Neither of them reacted to his suggestion. Silently they sat there watching a bulldozer start to fill the pit with sand. The trapped bugs crawled excitedly, and the three men shuddered in horror.
In the harsh light of the floodlight, Meela and Lock-nah strode towards the euphoric Curator, as the crane lowered the boulder to the ground. A corpse was visible within the stone; it seemed to have struggled in death, petrified in a silent scream.
Whether out of fear of death or defiance, only Imhotep could tell, what the scream meant; there was no immediate answer.
Meela had mixed feelings. To see Imhotep in this nightmare made out of stone, trapped, was breaking her heart, but at the same time it made her heart swell with sympathy and love.
She touched the cold cheek, smiling, without emotion; an echo of her true personality.
Lock-nah was still holding the black Book of the Dead in his hands and walked over to his mistress, “We must resurrect those now that have served our master.”
She nodded in agreement.
"The urn”, Lock-nah said and turned towards one of the Servants, who immediately hurried out into the night, while the three Mercenaries, who were finally brave enough to leave the car, walked towards the small group standing around the Rock.
“This is a considerable chunk of rock, you have found,” said Red a little casually, throwing his cigar butt away.
The Curator wrinkled his forehead, finally remembering the conversation that had stopped because of the small incident with the Skarabäen. He extended his hand towards the neglected American. “The bracelet! Where is it now? Hand it over!”
“We don’t have it, I mean, yet!”
“What do you mean?” asked the Curator, struggling not to lose control.
The small man only shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s call it a missed opportunity?”
Lock-nah, who had no intentions of hiding his rage, let the book fall to the ground and grabbed Red.
“We have to have the bracelet!”
Jacques and Spivey, dark faced, pushed nearer, hands reaching for their guns. The Bodyguard let go of Red, who even smiled to his face. But before the three could bathe in their glory Lock-nah in a flash pulled out his scimitar and slashed the air.
Separating the parties, the Curator raised his hands in appeal, “Sirs! Please! I know we can solve this in a civilized manner!”
Meela, the only woman for miles, was watching with arms crossed, unimpressed by the silly way the men acted. Silently she raised her hand and Lock-nah nodded deferentially taking a step back. Meela walked towards the Curator, touching his arm, “I have advised you, to let Lock-nah and I take care of it.”
“Yes Milady.” Was the embarrassed answer, “but I didn't want, that... let’s call it quits.”
Red Willis moved forward and extended his hands in appeasement. “No reason for all the excitement. We have everything under control, we know where this thing is and we will get it for you. We know what we do.”
Meela’s cold eyes found his, “Where is it?”
“On the way to good old England. To London to be exact.”
And now it was time that Red and his two partners told them the whole story, of course, not the whole truth story, they hid the embarrassments.
“As soon as the O’Connells got aware of us, we have made sure to stay out of sight. And after the water had seeped banto nto the desert, they wrapped up everything and have taken the ship home. To London”
“And you are sure that they have what we are searching for?”
“Yes.”
“That means you have never seen the bracelet.”
“Not really…”
Again the Curator wrinkled his forehead, “Again you say this!”
Red smiled at Meela. His voice became more charming, coquettish. “Listen, we can save this. We’ll take care of it for you.”
“No! No, we will take care of it.” The Curator almost yelled.
“But what about our money?” the American asked all the charm gone.
“You will be rewarded for your efforts, don’t worry about it. There is something else you can do for us.” The Curator said all the worry gone; he even smiled, mysterious and weird. “That means London will be OUR next aim.”
The Servant that had been sent to get the Urn was back and Meela took it from him. She stroked the vessel and whispered to the corpse, “Soon, my lover. Soon”
Not far from this little show of affection was a worker, who had been able to hear most of the things said by the group around the lump of Rock. As far as this group was concerned he was invisible, just another worker. The Curator nor Meela, the bodyguard, nor anybody else suspected that there in the dark night was Ardeth Bay, their biggest enemy, seeing and hearing everything…..
Ardeth Bay, the leader of the Med-jai Warriors, a sect ordered by the Pharaoh , to watch over the city of dead and reverevent the Return of the Bearer of Death – he who shall not be named -… to prevent the return of the Creature, who would not rest until the earth is swallowed by Plague and Flames.
The Creature in the shroud of stone.
End Visionary Kiss III 8
HAMUNAPTRA RUINS, THE CITY OF THE DEAD, - NIGHT
The beauty and her shadow ran out into the night and moved quickly through the camp. Lock-nah was holding the Book of The Dead in his hand, while she was fighting with the weight of the golden book.
The turbaned chauffeur stood motionlessly next to a beige-colored Rolls-Royce. He bowed to his mistress and opened the car door, as Meela and her Bodyguard got closer. The driver did not hear the horrible screams of pain and fear that echoed through the city of dead.
“Not yet”, she said and walked straight towards the pit, which had been supervised by the Curator. She could see the little man with the red headgear at the next excavation, and the crane setting down a large object, a rock.
“They used the golden Book to defeat Imhotep? To curse him, right?” asked Meela Lock-nah.
“Yes this is the way it’s told, Milady!”
“So that means this book is the only thing on earth that can harm him? Right?”
“Yes Milady.”
Meela stopped at the pit, from which a disgusting smell of burned flesh and bugs was coming. As if disposing a used handkerchief, she threw the valuable book into the smoky darkness of the hole. Without wasting a thought on the metallic crunch of the beetles beneath her feet the woman and her shadow walked away. Meela did not even notice the three men in the jeep who watched and were now commenting on her actions.
“Did you see that?” Jacques asked.
“The damn thing is made out of gold! The Book was made out of pure gold!” was Spivey’s answer.
A still shaking Red sitting behind the steering wheel, mopped the sweat off his forehead, nodding towards the pit. “So why don’t you just jump into that hole and get the book girls?”
Neither of them reacted to his suggestion. Silently they sat there watching a bulldozer start to fill the pit with sand. The trapped bugs crawled excitedly, and the three men shuddered in horror.
In the harsh light of the floodlight, Meela and Lock-nah strode towards the euphoric Curator, as the crane lowered the boulder to the ground. A corpse was visible within the stone; it seemed to have struggled in death, petrified in a silent scream.
Whether out of fear of death or defiance, only Imhotep could tell, what the scream meant; there was no immediate answer.
Meela had mixed feelings. To see Imhotep in this nightmare made out of stone, trapped, was breaking her heart, but at the same time it made her heart swell with sympathy and love.
She touched the cold cheek, smiling, without emotion; an echo of her true personality.
Lock-nah was still holding the black Book of the Dead in his hands and walked over to his mistress, “We must resurrect those now that have served our master.”
She nodded in agreement.
"The urn”, Lock-nah said and turned towards one of the Servants, who immediately hurried out into the night, while the three Mercenaries, who were finally brave enough to leave the car, walked towards the small group standing around the Rock.
“This is a considerable chunk of rock, you have found,” said Red a little casually, throwing his cigar butt away.
The Curator wrinkled his forehead, finally remembering the conversation that had stopped because of the small incident with the Skarabäen. He extended his hand towards the neglected American. “The bracelet! Where is it now? Hand it over!”
“We don’t have it, I mean, yet!”
“What do you mean?” asked the Curator, struggling not to lose control.
The small man only shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s call it a missed opportunity?”
Lock-nah, who had no intentions of hiding his rage, let the book fall to the ground and grabbed Red.
“We have to have the bracelet!”
Jacques and Spivey, dark faced, pushed nearer, hands reaching for their guns. The Bodyguard let go of Red, who even smiled to his face. But before the three could bathe in their glory Lock-nah in a flash pulled out his scimitar and slashed the air.
Separating the parties, the Curator raised his hands in appeal, “Sirs! Please! I know we can solve this in a civilized manner!”
Meela, the only woman for miles, was watching with arms crossed, unimpressed by the silly way the men acted. Silently she raised her hand and Lock-nah nodded deferentially taking a step back. Meela walked towards the Curator, touching his arm, “I have advised you, to let Lock-nah and I take care of it.”
“Yes Milady.” Was the embarrassed answer, “but I didn't want, that... let’s call it quits.”
Red Willis moved forward and extended his hands in appeasement. “No reason for all the excitement. We have everything under control, we know where this thing is and we will get it for you. We know what we do.”
Meela’s cold eyes found his, “Where is it?”
“On the way to good old England. To London to be exact.”
And now it was time that Red and his two partners told them the whole story, of course, not the whole truth story, they hid the embarrassments.
“As soon as the O’Connells got aware of us, we have made sure to stay out of sight. And after the water had seeped banto nto the desert, they wrapped up everything and have taken the ship home. To London”
“And you are sure that they have what we are searching for?”
“Yes.”
“That means you have never seen the bracelet.”
“Not really…”
Again the Curator wrinkled his forehead, “Again you say this!”
Red smiled at Meela. His voice became more charming, coquettish. “Listen, we can save this. We’ll take care of it for you.”
“No! No, we will take care of it.” The Curator almost yelled.
“But what about our money?” the American asked all the charm gone.
“You will be rewarded for your efforts, don’t worry about it. There is something else you can do for us.” The Curator said all the worry gone; he even smiled, mysterious and weird. “That means London will be OUR next aim.”
The Servant that had been sent to get the Urn was back and Meela took it from him. She stroked the vessel and whispered to the corpse, “Soon, my lover. Soon”
Not far from this little show of affection was a worker, who had been able to hear most of the things said by the group around the lump of Rock. As far as this group was concerned he was invisible, just another worker. The Curator nor Meela, the bodyguard, nor anybody else suspected that there in the dark night was Ardeth Bay, their biggest enemy, seeing and hearing everything…..
Ardeth Bay, the leader of the Med-jai Warriors, a sect ordered by the Pharaoh , to watch over the city of dead and reverevent the Return of the Bearer of Death – he who shall not be named -… to prevent the return of the Creature, who would not rest until the earth is swallowed by Plague and Flames.
The Creature in the shroud of stone.
End Visionary Kiss III 8