Chapter 1
Buffy slowly awoke to find herself lying on a large bed; both of her hands were stretched above her head, held in place by heavy shackles. Large heavy chains bound her feet and waist, effectively immobilising the deceptively fragile blonde.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to figure out where she was and how she had gotten here. The last thing she could remember was studying in her room and something about L.A. She was going to L.A. to fight something… a walnut. Why would she have to fight a walnut? Shaking her head in confusion, she tried to piece together her fuzzy memories. No, it wasn’t a walnut, it was a demon; she was going to L.A. to fight a demon, and there was a van with vampires…. Lots of vampires, they had held her down while Wesley injected her with something.
Buffy’s eyes snapped open in recollection. She could remember everything now; she could remember Wesley coming to her dorm room and asking her for help, the fight in the car park, and the smug look on his face as he injected her with whatever had been in that syringe.
Mind kicking into overdrive, she began to desperately tug on her restraints. She had to get out of here; what could he possibly want with her? Why would he want to go through all the trouble of drugging her when he could have killed her on the spot? A cold shiver ran down her spine; what if he was going to use her to raise that demon? She didn’t want to be skinned alive and slowly eaten.
“You’ll find the chains are quite unbreakable, Miss Summers,” Wesley announced from the shadows.
Buffy jumped at the sound of Wesley’s voice, ignoring his comment as she increased her efforts to escape, frantically tugging on the chains until they cut into her wrists. Panic soon turned to terror when she realised that Wesley was correct the chains were indeed unbreakable.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, unable to keep the sound of fear out of her voice.
Stepping out of the shadows, he looked down upon the Slayer’s defenceless form, taking immense pleasure in the smell of fear that radiated off the tiny blonde; it was intoxicating. Fighting back the urge to taste her blood once again, he answered her question. “Absolutely nothing, Miss Summers. I can assure you I have no intentions of harming you.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Buffy said as she gave the chains a couple more tugs.
“Why wouldn’t you? If I had any intentions of harming you, I would have done it long before now,” Wesley stated matter-of-factly.
Buffy had a sudden feeling of dread fall over her. “What do you want, then?”
Wesley laughed. “From you, Miss Summers, absolutely nothing… Well, except for you to live an exceptionally long life. After all isn’t that what every Slayer wants?” he asked, taking a seat next to the bed.
“What?” Buffy asked in surprise. “Why?”
“Why, Miss Summers? Well, that is very simple; if I were to kill you, another Slayer would be called, and so on and so forth. However, my keeping you alive and in my control enables me to have free roam of the world. After all, who is going to stop me? No Slayer, no boundaries, everyone’s happy,” he explained, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Oh, and by the way, I must thank you; you’ve saved me quite a bit of trouble by placing that wretched girl Faith in a coma. Until she either wakes up or expires, that only leaves you to worry about.”
“What! You’re going to keep me chained to a bed until I die of old age?!” she shrieked in disbelief.
“Not at all; you will be given free reign of several rooms. Of course, you will be monitored.” He motioned towards a camera in the ceiling.
Buffy laughed. “What makes you think I’m not going to kick your sorry ass the second you let me out of these chains?”
Wesley chuckled at Buffy’s comment. “Ah, Miss Summers, ever the little spitfire,” he said with a grin. “Of course I would not release you with out taking adequate precautions. This little device here is my insurance that you will be on your very best behaviour,” he replied, holding up a small remote control.
“What, a TV remote? Do you think that stopping me from watching my favourite shows is going to keep me from going postal on you?” Buffy snarked.
Wesley laughed. “Hardly, Miss Summers. This little device is the control to that nice little collar you are wearing.”
Realisation suddenly struck that she was indeed wearing a collar; creasing her brow in confusion, the furious Slayer asked, “What, are you gonna take me to the pound if I misbehave?”
Wesley smiled evilly. “I don’t think I can explain this adequately. Why don’t I just give you a demonstration?” he replied, pressing the button on the remote.
Buffy screamed in pain as the collar sent an excruciating jolt of electricity into her throat. The jolt only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was enough to cause tears to form in her eyes as she coughed uncontrollably.
Wesley stood and walked over to Buffy with a wide grin plastered across his conceited face. “What, Miss Summers, no smart comments? No witty riposte?”
Buffy took a ragged breath and stared at Wesley with pure hatred. “Fuck you, you son of a bitch!” she spat back at the smug vampire.
Wesley chuckled at Buffy’s response. “Why, Miss Summers what terrible language. Maybe I should teach you some manners. What do you think," he asked, positioning his finger over the button once again.
“Go to hell!” she bit out, venom dripping from every word.
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” he replied, smug grin firmly in place as he shocked her again, watching in delight as she arched her back off the bed, trying to turn her body away from the excruciating pain.
Tears blurred her vision as she looked up to see Wesley standing over her, a wide grin plastered across his conceited face. “Bastard," she hiss in pain, wanting nothing more than to see the smug bastards crumble to dust.
Wesley’s eyes shone with mirth, he had so hoped that she would give him due cause to correct her again. There was just something so satisfying about seeing the Slayer in pain. It was almost addictive. “I see that you are still as stubborn as ever. Perhaps I should give you another lesson in respect,” he commented dryly, lightly ghosting his finger over the small remote.
“No,” she gasped, not wanting to feel the collar in use again.
Wesley cocked his eyebrow. “What was that, Miss Summers?”
Closing her eyes in defeat, the Slayer slowly shook her head from side to side. She knew that this was a fight she couldn’t possibly hope to win. “No. No more, please,” she begged, knowing that this was what he wanted from her.
Wesley smiled at Buffy’s pitiful plea. “Very good, I guess you are not such a slow learner after all,” he replied, once again taking a seat next to the helpless Slayer. “Now, as I was saying before, you will have free roam of this room and the bathroom, which is through that door.” He indicated a door on the other side of the room. “You will be monitored at all times by means of cameras mounted throughout your living quarters, as well as regular in-person checks. Any attempt to harm either the cameras or any of my entourage will result in you being reintroduced to this little device,” he said, holding up the remote for Buffy to see. “And I’m sure you don’t want that to happen, now do you?”
Buffy simply shook her head in response.
A cold smile bloomed across his features at Buffy’s pitiful gesture. “You have a fully stocked refrigerator, and hot meals will be brought to you three times a day. Do you have any questions?”
“Just one. Can I get these chains off now?” Buffy asked as she watched Wesley casually lean back in his chair.
Wesley chuckled. “All in good time, Miss Summers. You’ll find some bandages in the bathroom cupboard to attend to your wounds. Oh, and by the way, the collar also activates if you try to remove it or leave your room, so you’ll find there is no need for violence; the only way you can leave this room is if I let you.”
“And I’m guessing that’s not gonna happen anytime soon?” Buffy said under her breath.
Wesley gave her a sardonic smile. “No, I think the day I let you walk out that door will be the day I take up sunbathing.”
Buffy simply snorted in response.
Pulling a small two-way radio out of his pocket, Wesley chose to ignore Buffy’s sardonic snort, instead keeping his mind strictly on business. “Security team come in.”
“Security here,” came over the radio.
“May I please have some assistance in our guest’s room?” Wesley asked.
“Right away, Sir.”
A few seconds later, four large vampires entered the room. “You called for us, sir?” one of the vampires asked.
“Yes, please unchain our guest,” Wesley ordered, offering him the key to her cuffs.
“Are you sure, sir? What if she attacks?” a second minion asked.
“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion,” Wesley growled in annoyance. “Now do as I ask!”
“But…” As the vampire started to protest, Wesley removed a stake from his pocket and threw it at the disobedient minion, promptly dusting him.
“As I was saying, I would like for you to unchain our guest. I do hope no one else has any objections?” Wesley said as he calmly sat back down in his chair.
The three remaining minions all nodded their heads hastily in agreement and quickly went about the task of unchaining the Slayer.
Buffy cringed in revulsion the instant their hands touched her skin. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought that these creatures could have so much control over her; that her life from this moment on could quite possibly hinge on the whims and desires of one man. If he wanted her dead, he could kill her by simply pressing a button. However, an even scarier thought was that, if he wanted her alive, who knew to what extremes he would go. Her blood ran cold at the thought of enduring decades of torment at the hands of this man… this demon. Clenching her fists in determination, she swore to herself that that would never happen; she would be free by nightfall.
A malevolent smile bloomed across her lips as she turned her head and watched one of the creatures fumble with the locks binding her wrists. He was clearly terrified, possibly due to Wesley’s impromptu dusting or the fact that he was currently unchaining a powerful and pissed-off Slayer.
“Although I’m not growing any older, I would still like to leave this room sometime this year!” Wesley growled impatiently.
Buffy silently laughed to herself when the terrified minion practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of his master’s irritated voice, dropping the key on the floor in the process.
Wesley let out a frustrated sigh. “Today, if you please!”
“Sorry, Sir,” the minion apologised, picking the key off the floor.
“It’s not that hard of a task; a bloody monkey could do it blindfolded, and most likely with more skill than you! Now before I show just how sorry you will be, do as I asked and unchain the Slayer!” Wesley demanded.
Buffy’s eyes shone with mirth as she watched the terrified creature fumble once more with the key. She almost laughed aloud when she saw the look of relief that washed across his face when he finally inserted the key, unlocking the last of her restraints. Unable to resist taunting the terrified fledgling, the Slayer leant forward and yelled, “BOO!” watching in amusement as the startled demon stumbled back several feet before falling to the floor.
“Was that really necessary, Miss Summers?” Wesley asked.
“You never said I couldn’t say ‘boo’; how was I to know he’s all skittish?” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “You know, I really think you can do better; why don’t you just dust him?”
“Yes, I know, it’s so hard to find good help these days,” he replied, letting out a frustrated sigh as he stepped over the pathetic excuse of a vampire lying on the floor. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“No, sir,” the minion whimpered.
“So you disagree with me?” Wesley asked, producing a stake from his breast pocket.
“No, sir,” the minion replied, frantically shaking his head back and forth.
“So you agree that you are ineffectual and inadequate?” Wesley countered.
For a moment, the petrified demon just stared at his master, not knowing what to say. If he agreed, Wesley was sure to kill him for being inept. Nevertheless, if he disagreed, he was likely to be killed simply for contradicting the volatile vampire. “Sir, I-I…”
“You have until the count of five,” Wesley stated, making it more than clear by the tone of his voice that the minion not only needed to leave the room, but the state as well if he wanted to escape his wrath.
“One.”
“No, please…” the minion begged.
“Two.”
Eyes wide with terror, the minion scrambled to his feet and ran to the door.
“Three.”
Frantic hands desperately fumbled with the locks adorning the heavy door.
“Four.”
Relief flooded the demon’s system when he heard the wonderful sound of the key turning in the lock. He was going to make it...
“Five,” Wesley announced in a cold tone, effortlessly throwing the stake and dusting the creature before he could even set foot into the corridor.
Buffy watched this interaction with wide-eyed astonishment. For a split second, she just stared at the falling ashes before registering that the door was open; seeing her opportunity to escape, she instantly made a desperate dash for freedom.
As she ran, the world fell away; she couldn’t hear the desperate pounding of her heart, or the hollow sound of her feet hitting the polished floorboards, nor did she feel the rush of air caressing her face and hair. She was so close, only a few feet to go and she would be free…
Wesley watched in amusement as Buffy darted across the room, obviously intent on escaping. He had to give the girl ten points for determination… and subtract twelve for stupidity. She wasn’t even within two feet of the door before the collar activated, throwing her to the floor with a sharp jolt.
She felt like all the wind had been knocked out of her body. Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself to her hands and knees. Pain and humiliation fuelled her movements as she crawled away from the door, away from the pain and from her freedom. The hollow sound of their laughter echoed in her ears, drowning out the sound of her own internal cries of pain and anguish. She wanted to scream, fight, and tear this place apart. She wanted Wesley and his stupid minions to suffer the excruciating pain of feeling each and every cell in their bodies drying up and turning to ash as she ripped their hearts out with her bare hands. Clenching her hands into tight fists, Buffy fought to steady herself as she forced large lungsful of air back and forth across her tender throat.
A wide grin spread across Wesley’s face as he watched Buffy gradually crawl back over to her bed, slowly pulling herself up into a sitting position as she clutched hold of the bed linen, pressing her face into the soft fabric.
Taking a step closer, Wesley knelt down next to Buffy. “I see that detaining you here is not only going to prove purposeful, but entertaining as well.”
Buffy stared at Wesley with cold abhorrence. “I’m going to kill you,” she hissed.
“Sure you are,” Wesley replied in a patronising tone, turning his back on the furious Slayer. “Do enjoy your new home,” he called out over his shoulder as he stepped out into the hall, not bothering to close the door behind him.
For a moment, Buffy just stared at the open door in utter dismay. Who would have thought that you could contain a Slayer in an unlocked room? Letting out a snort of disgust, she forced herself to her feet. If she couldn’t leave through the door, she would just have to find some other way out of this room.
Casting her eyes around the room, she took in every detail. She didn’t want to overlook anything that could be utilised as a weapon or a possible escape point.
It was a large room, tastefully decorated and sparsely furnished, presumably to minimise the possibilities of potential weapons. Apart from the bed, she noticed only a small entertainment unit positioned next to a hotel-style bar fridge, with a comfortable looking sofa resting a few feet away. All of the walls were bare except for one, where thick layers of material hid what she could only presume was a window. Wasting not a moment longer, she quickly ran over and pulled back the curtains, only to find the window completely bricked in, leaving no escape.
Letting out a sigh of disappointment, she continued exploring the rest of the room; to her dismay, she noticed that none of the furniture was made of wood, leaving her little to no chance of making any weapons.
The bathroom was huge, containing a large spa bath and shower cubicle. In the ceiling, another camera watched her movements. “So much for privacy,” she muttered to herself.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A wide grin bloomed across Wesley’s lips as he watched, via the security monitors, the Slayer’s explorations of her new cell. He chuckled as he watched her draw back the heavy drapes revealing a solid wall of brick before heading into the bathroom, and his amusement only grew as he watched her ransack the drawers and cupboards in the bathroom before stomping back into the main room, wildly looking around her sparse dwellings before continuing her rampage, upturning the couch and mattress before stomping over to the closet.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Buffy was shocked to see that all of her clothes from her dorm room were hanging in the closet; Wesley must have gone back to her room and collected them after he knocked her out. A cold chill suddenly ran down her spine. *What if Willow was there? Oh God, he could have killed her.* What had she done; how could she have been so stupid as to invite a vampire into her home? Her best friend could be dead, or worse, and it was all her fault. Finding new resolve, Buffy renewed her efforts to escape; grabbing hold of one of the plastic hangers, she broke it in half and marched back to the bricked-in window.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Wesley barked out a laugh as he watched the Slayer purposefully march over to the window; armed only with a broken plastic coathanger, she began to carve out the mortar holding the bricks in place. Once again, he was forced to commend the girl for her determination; she was certainly going to prove a handful.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Sweat dripped down her face as she continued to carve her way out; she was almost through. All she had to do was remove one brick, and using that opening she would be able to pull the others out without any fuss. With a triumphant sigh, she felt the brick shift. She had done it. Wrapping her fingers around the loose brick, she wrestled it free from the wall, only to discover a second barrier of steel plating behind the makeshift brick wall. She had to give it to Wesley; he had certainly done his research. He was probably sitting back right now, having a good old chuckle at her expense.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Wesley roared with laughter as he watched the Slayer’s shoulders slump in disappointment before she took the brick in her hand and threw it at the adjacent wall.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A sob of defeat ripped past Buffy’s lips as she stared at the shattered plasterboard concealing her true prison. Four walls of steel surrounded her, she just couldn’t see them; it was all a façade, nothing more than window dressing to lure her into the belief that she could escape. Crumbling to the floor in exhaustion, she stared at the demolished wall, trying to figure out her next move.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A satisfied grin spread across Wesley’s lips as he watched the Slayer collapse on the floor. She looked so lost and frightened, like a small child looking for her mummy in a department store. His demon relished in the thought that he could destroy the Slayer so easily. He had done this, succeeded in accomplishing what no one else had ever dreamed of; he had imprisoned the Slayer and turned the world upside down.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
She had no idea how long she sat there; minutes, hours or days, it was all the same. It wasn’t like time meant anything to a person that has nothing but time on their hands.
She was so tired; the combination of whatever solution Wesley had injected into her and the painful jolts from the collar, coupled with her own futile escape attempts, had really taken their toll on her. Pulling herself up on shaky legs, the exhausted Slayer walked over to her bed; not bothering to pull back the ruffled covers, she climbed onto the soft mattress and gave in to the pull of sleep.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Wesley decided to head out for a bite to eat. Glancing once more over at the monitor, he took in the sight of the sleeping Slayer and decided that he was in the mood for something small and blonde tonight.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*
To say that her sleep was restless would be an understatement. Nightmares of her capture plagued her rest, leaving the Slayer fighting for her freedom over and over again. Somewhere in her subconscious, she felt the deadly presence of the three vampires as they entered her room, but she was unable to discern them from her vivid dreams.
She was fighting her way through the never-ending throngs of vampires; dust choked her lungs as she breathed in the endless shower of ash that fell from her stake. In the distance, she could hear someone screaming.
Pushing her way through a the sea of fangs and claws, she found herself standing alone in a dark car park; she could still hear the endless screams for help. Rapidly turning in circles, she tried to locate the source of the screams, but they were all around her, coating her with their fear and pulling her down as she started to run. She couldn’t see where she was going, she just knew that she had to get away, away from the screams; she couldn’t help them, she just had to run.
In the distance, she saw a light; if she could get to it, she would be safe. Everything was always safe and pure in the light; nothing bad could ever follow her there. Unseen hands moved within the shadows, reaching out for her, pulling her back into the dark, holding her down as he came closer; she could feel him now, standing behind her.
The screams were deafening, and they followed him like a shadow. Closing her eyes, she tried to block him out. She didn’t want to feel his hands on her, closing around her throat like a vice, choking the life out of her…
The room echoed with the sound of the Slayer’s bloodcurdling screams as she was woken from her sleep with a savage jolt. Tears of agony stung her eyes as she rolled herself onto her stomach, desperately attempting to flee an enemy she could never escape. The hollow sound of laughter filled her ears, mocking her as they shocked her again, savagely tearing an inhuman scream from her parched throat.
Doubling over in agony, Buffy madly clutched at her throat, desperately trying to stop the pain as it seared its way down her body, burning its way right down to her chest, making her lungs ache with every breath she took. She could still hear them, joking and laughing about the pain they had inflicted upon her.
Gasping for painful breath, she tried to crawl away from her tormentors; when the third jolt hit her, she found that she was unable to scream, the previous jolts having already severely burnt her larynx. This time, the damage allowed only a small squeak to pass her lips.
“I’m sure you all have a very good reason for entering this room and electrocuting our guest?” Wesley asked, anger evident in his voice as he stepped into the room. “Because I would hate to find that you took it upon yourselves to come all the way down here simply to assault the Slayer. The Slayer we are ensuring lives a very long life.” As he spoke, he started to walk towards the small group of vampires, snatching the remote from the hand of one as he grabbed another by the throat, lifting him several feet off the ground.
“W-we came down here to give her her meal, and she tried to escape,” the minion managed to choke out, despite the fact that Wesley was crushing his windpipe.
“Yeah. Yeah, we came in here, and she jumped us and tried to run out of the room,” a second vampire yelped in agreement.
Wesley glanced over at Buffy lying on her bed, coughing uncontrollably as she held her swollen throat, burn marks clearly visible from the jolts she had just received.
“If she was trying to escape, how did she end up all the way over there on the bed? Surely she would be over here by the door?” Wesley calmly asked.
“Um, um, s-s-she… W-we threw her over there when she tried to run past us,” a third minion replied, shuddering in fear when his master turned cold eyes his way.
“Well then, you obviously managed to overpower her, so why did you continue to shock her?” Wesley asked, levelling the minion with a cold stare.
The trio of vampires gave each other a nervous look as they tried to make up a convincing lie. “She-she tried to rush us again,” the vampire Wesley held by the throat gasped out.
Wesley responded to this by tightening his grip on the vampire’s throat, feeling very satisfied when he heard the creature’s larynx and esophageus crack under the pressure. “Do you know what I think?” he growled at the trembling minions. “I think you are lying to me. Do you know what I do to my subordinates when they lie to me?” he asked, allowing his true demon visage to come forth as he tore the head off the vampire he held before slowly turning to the second minion. “Now, I’m sure you didn’t mean to lie to me, so let’s try this again, shall we? Why did you attack the Slayer?” he asked in a menacing voice.
“W-w-we th-thought it would be funny,” the cowering vampire replied as he watched his master approach him.
Wesley smiled at the vampire. “See, was that so hard? Don’t you feel better now you’ve told me the truth?”
The vampire nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
Wesley took a deep, unneeded breath as he looked over at Buffy; she had tears in her eyes, and he could hear that her breathing was laboured. The burns on her throat were obviously quite extensive. “Now, about the matter of you and your soon to be dusty friend here,” Wesley injected, indicating towards vampire cowering in the corner. “I want you to look at the Slayer and tell me if you see anything funny.”
The vampire turned to look at the Slayer, seeing her cry as she gasped for breath. He did indeed find this very funny; however, he didn’t think that was the answer Wesley was looking for. “No sir, I don’t think she’s funny.”
Wesley looked over at Buffy. “Why don’t you find this funny? Look, the Slayer’s crying, and she is obviously in a great deal of pain, with all of this due to you. Why wouldn’t you find that amusing?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the vampire replied in a small voice.
“Well, maybe I should enlighten you on why you shouldn’t find this funny… YOU ALMOST KILLED THE SLAYER, YOU BLOODY TWIT! She’s only been here for one day, and you practically killed her with your oh so funny joke! Do I need to remind you why we have gone to all the trouble of capturing a Slayer and keeping her incarcerated? She is not here for your enjoyment! She is here to live a preferably long life so we do not have anymore Slayer problems! Now, if you kill her on the first day, we’ll have to start all over again... do you get my drift?” Wesley shrieked, producing a stake from his pocket and plunging it into the minion’s chest, watching in delight as the ashes fell to the floor.
Buffy watched as Wesley killed her second attacker, knowing that he would kill her just as quickly if the circumstances were different. The fact that he needed her alive was the only reason he was not laughing it up with the two former minions.
“How badly are you hurt?” Wesley asked as he walked over to where Buffy lay.
Turning tear-filled eyes to her former Watcher, Buffy managed to reply, “I’ll live. That should make you happy.”
“Yes, that does make me happy. I’m sure you’ll be as good as new in a day or so,” Wesley replied with a smile. “I feel that we can all take this as a learning experience. I am sure that you are not eager to feel that collar in action again, so I am in no doubt you will be very cooperative… Moreover, after the little lesson I gave to my minions, I am sure nobody will be likely to disturb you unnecessarily. Wouldn’t you agree?” He asked, turning cold eyes towards the last minion, still cowering in the corner. A wide grin bloomed across the former Watcher’s lips when the minion responded with a frantic head nod. “I like to think of it as a win-win situation,” he replied in a smug tone.
Buffy stared at Wesley in disbelief. Here she was fighting to get enough air through her badly burnt throat, and he was talking about it as a learning experience. “You haven’t changed a bit. You were an ass as a human, and you’re still one now.”
Wesley gave Buffy a menacing look and took a step closer. “And you, Miss Summers, are still an over-opinionated spoilt brat that has no idea who she’s dealing with. Just remember, it is not impossible to replace you; it’s merely inconvenient!” With that, Wesley stomped out of the room, leaving the severely injured Slayer alone with the snivelling minion.
Buffy watched the minion closely as he scrambled to his feet, for a moment he just stared at the two piles of dust littering the floor before running from the room in terror.
Closing her eyes against the pain and humiliation, Buffy rolled herself into a tight ball. Unable to comprehend how her life could take such a devastating turn in such a short period of time, the blonde Slayer gave up trying to be brave and cried herself to sleep.
