Chapter 2
~*~*~*~*~
Over many a quaint
and curious volume of forgotten lore…
Edgar Allen Poe
The Raven
~*~*~*~*~
The needle scraped his
skin over and over in a distinct pattern; he was delighted as he flinched at the
stinging pain, egging him on to revel and glory in the mark being permanently
etched on his arm. An evil,
maniacal light came into his eyes and he took another hit of the drugs that were
free-flowing in the dank room, his body relaxing as it zinged swiftly through
his system.
As he was marked with
the sign of his master, those around him worshiped the demon, their hands rested
on symbols marking the round table as they chanted words of praise and devotion.
Occasionally, he would join in, the words tumbling from his lips by rote
–such an eager and studious pupil.
“Time to sleep,” the
man taunted, the candle held before him flickered shadows to play about his
face, casting a devilish glow to his features.
He had to suppress his urge to smirk in response.
He thought he looked sinister, but he had nothing on Ripper.
Ripper surpassed them all in his desire to be evil…
~*~
He was
pulled from sleep, his body sitting up in a trance-like state, lured from his
bed by some unseen force. Rising
from his bed, clad in his blue striped pajamas, Giles made his way downstairs
and slipped silently from the building, not bothering with shoes, or even to
lock the door.
He
walked onward, drawn by some force greater than his will.
As he made his way in the early morning hours, he was left untouched by
the creatures of the night. Some
had been tempted to feast on a defenseless man who was crazy enough to walk
alone at night – but the aura of evil radiating from him repelled even them.
He was clearly in the thrall of a being more powerful than they.
~*~*~*~*~
Giles
walked in the door and down the corridor leading to the open room of the morgue.
His bare feet made no sound on the linoleum flooring as he approached the
refrigeration units that housed Sunnydale’s latest casualties.
His eyes focused on the closed doors, ignoring the sterile surroundings.
Walking around a metal autopsy table, he paused unerringly before the
fourth unit from the left. His hand
lifted towards the lever, his eyes gazing vacantly ahead as he seized the handle
and pulled the door open.
He
allowed the door to open wide, revealing the contents.
Hands slid the bed out on its rollers, exposing the shrouded body.
He pulled the white cover from the corpse’s face and upper torso.
Neither noticing nor caring about the bruises that marred the form before
him, Giles’ hand hovered over the dead man until it came to rest above his
master’s mark.
His
hand fisted around the black tattoo; his body jerked spasmodically as the demon
leapt from the dead form of his former colleague and came to reside deep within
him. He looked around, the yellow,
cat-like eyes taking in his surrounds before he one again sealed the man within
his metal tomb and quietly slipped from the room.
~*~*~*~*~
Bearing the black,
tattooed sign of their master, the five young adults finally circled the round
table. High on the best acid, their
bodies undulated to the music as the chanting increased in pitch and volume.
Cries for Eyghon burst forth as the chanting increased the lust in the
participants. Often, one would break off to grab another, groping their
willing partner – be it male or female – as lust overtook them.
Gasps and moans filled
the air, already heady with a mix of marijuana, incense, and candles that
littered the room in random disarray.
“Eyghon!”
“EYGHON!!”
The frenetic shrieking
of their master’s name grew louder and louder, until in a clap of thunder, he
stood before them, his red stare taking in his loyal subjects.
~*~
Ring.
Ring.
It was
the third ring that finally woke Giles. The
phone continued its annoying sound as he sat up and glanced around his bedroom.
“Oh,
bugger off,” he muttered towards the irritating contraption, its continuous
jangling resounding in his ears.
Realizing
that the noise wouldn’t stop until he answered it, Giles leaned over the table
and snatched the receiver off the hook.
“What!”
he practically hollered into the phone.
Buffy’s
voice came over the connection. “Giles?”
“Yeah…Buffy…what
do you want?”
If she
thought his speech and manner towards her seemed strange, she didn’t say
anything.
“It’s
that guy…Ethan…I caught him snooping around the library here,” she
replied.
“Ethan,
you say?”
“Yeah,
that guy from Halloween…the one responsible for the costume changes…”
“Hmmm…good
work, Buffy. I’ll get dressed and
be right over.”
“Get
dressed? It’s almost noon…”
she got out, but all she heard was the dial tone in her ear. Apparently, Giles had hung up on her. She pulled the receiver away from her ear and stared at it
for a moment in confusion. Her
watcher was really acting weird.
~*~
Ripper
glanced down at the blue pinstriped cotton pajamas he wore.
His pulled the shirt away from his body, wondering why he was wearing his
father’s clothes.
‘Since when do I wear
pajamas?’
He
quickly unbuttoned the top, practically ripping the bloody thing apart in his
haste to remove the offending garment. The
pajama bottoms soon joined the small heap on the floor.
Naked, he moved to the full-length mirror that hung on one wall.
He
eyed his reflection in the mirror, taking note of the lack of definition his
body bore. Since when had he
slacked off and got pudgy? Rolling
his eyes and mentally implementing an exercise plan, he pushed the closet door
aside and inspected the contents.
“Bloody
hell,” he muttered, “I’ve turned into an old git!”
Disgustedly,
he eyed the tweed and twill articles that made up his wardrobe.
‘Add clothes shopping to the
list of things to do at once!’
Grabbing
the least stodgy items, he quickly dressed.
He found his keys amidst the piles of books and papers cluttering the
desk and made his way to the courtyard outside his condo, glancing at his keys
as he tried to determine which car could possibly be his.
Ripper eyed the light blue two-seater monstrosity and groaned.
~*~*~*~*~
Ripper
stepped inside the library and took in the scene before him.
Ethan, his old partner in the dark arts, sat tied to a chair in the
middle of the room. The Scoobies
were hovering at the counter. His slayer stood near Ethan, attempting to gain information
from the man.
His
eyes swept to the other side of the room and lit on Jenny.
Now there was a fine piece of skirt.
His eyes flashed yellow, momentarily overcome as the demon within surged.
His gaze raked her body from head to toe; she’d make a fine addition to
his “members only” club.
“Ripper,”
Ethan snarked from his tied-up position on the chair.
“Ethan.
I seem to remember telling you to get out of town,” Ripper voiced,
assuming the cultured British voice from long past.
He
needed the others to believe he was still Giles. Later, much later, he’d let Ethan in on his plans.
For now, he kept quiet. For
all his apparent evilness, Ethan had nothing on Ripper.
He crossed the room and fisted both hands in the front of the bound
man’s shirt.
“Why
are you here?” he questioned; he couldn’t quite keep the Ripper menace out
of his voice, and Ethan’s head lifted sharply, his gaze locking on Giles.
Trying
to distract Ethan, Ripper shoved him, the force knocking the other man backwards
to crash on the floor. The distinct
sound of bones breaking sounded just a moment before Buffy’s protests and the
Scoobies shocked exclamations rent the air.
The
blow was just what Ethan needed to free himself.
While
Buffy was busy hemming and hawing over Giles’ behavior, Ethan slipped free
from his loose bindings and shoved Jenny out of his way – knocking her hard
into a bookcase – as he hurtled out of the library through the double doors.
Concern
for Jenny overruled chasing after the other man. Ripper was the first by her side, playing up his part of the
worried librarian for his audience. Holding
her body close to his, he murmured solicitous words to the slightly dazed woman.
She mumbled her assent that she was fine, just shaken.
Ripper
offered to see her home and she agreed. With
a few words to his slayer and her friends to lock up and go home, he led Jenny
out into the hallway.
“What’s
with Giles?” Xander asked once they were alone in the library.
“I’ve never seen him act that way before.”
“I
don’t know, but I’m damn sure gonna find out.
There’s something wrong with him. He’s been acting weird lately.
First, he ditches me at the hospital. Then
the whole drunk Giles scene from last night.”
Determination
in her stride, Buffy stalked from the library.