Hunter & Hunted VI
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
The halls of Sunnydale High were empty, save for the echoing footsteps of a few custodial staff, their movements a distant rhythm in the otherwise silent building. He was waiting in the hallway outside the Sunnydale High library, eyes closed and simply relaxing, leaned up against a set of lockers, the cool metal a contrast to the warmth of his skin.
The school was empty and quiet, as it was well after hours, the usual bustle of students and teachers replaced by an eerie stillness. With the chaos of the school's piglet mascot being eaten, not to mention the principal, it made perfect sense that no one would stick around, even for the usual after-school nonsense.
Samuel Lucius Ash the Sixth — the Sixth part was very important, actually — hummed quietly to himself, the antique headphones in his ears playing one of his favorite songs from the music player in his pockets, the melody a soothing balm to his troubled thoughts. An oldie but undoubtedly a goodie, it was the sort of song that he'd have constantly playing at the Rosen Queen if he wasn't worried about being too on the nose, the lyrics a little too apt for the current situation.
...the 90s, huh, he mused to himself, a slight smile playing on his lips, his eyes still closed as he let the music wash over him. There wasn't much to be said, but he did love this time period for what it was worth, the simplicity of it all, the potential for growth and change. I'm glad that most of these run behind, he thought, his smile almost fading as he recalled the first universe in this cluster he stepped into, that one apparently just experiencing the year 2019, for all the good and bad that entailed.
Imagine having to relive 2020 over again, ugh. The thought alone was enough to make him shudder, the memories of that particular year still fresh in his mind, even if they technically hadn't happened yet.
Choosing this universe had been done on a whim, really.
This universe, at least.
Sam had known that he'd need to leave his original one for a while now.
It was far too… crowded.
He needed room to grow and he'd rather not slaughter his way to the top.
Besides, he'd be torn in half and disintegrated before he got halfway there.
And more than that… it would make him look bad.
He remained unmoving as the library doors opened and a redhead girl quickly scurried out, a look on her face and a tightness to her gait that screamed "bathroom emergency", her footsteps hurried and uneven on the polished floor. He cracked an eye open, the girl not even noticing him as she ran right past him on a beeline to the bathroom, her mind clearly elsewhere. The mischievous part of him considered locking the bathroom door with a twist of his will, a simple flex of his power that would have been child's play, but he pushed that down almost immediately, his lips twitching with barely restrained mirth. It was always funny how his more malicious Fiend impulses reared their head this close to a source of malefic energy so potent as the Hellmouth, making him act more like the teenage boy he actually was, hormones and all.
Enough, he thought, pushing himself off the lockers with a fluid grace, his hands sliding into the pockets of his basketball shorts along with his headphones. Pranks for later.
After all, he was here for a reason.
The young man strode into the library, throwing both doors open as he walked through them, the action somehow both dramatic and casual.
His gaze was focused directly in front of him, his piercing blue eyes intense and unwavering as he took in the scene before him.
Inside, the library was deserted, the usual cacophony of student interactions replaced by a suffocating silence. The soft hum of the ventilation system and the distant sound of his own footsteps were the only noises that filled the space, echoing off the high ceilings and towering bookshelves.
His target was exactly where he expected him to be, the boy's presence a beacon in the otherwise empty room. Lying on a table at the far end of the library, Xander Harris appeared to be anything but comfortable, his body twitching and shuddering as if in the throes of a fever dream. Sweat drenched his brow, his hair plastered to his forehead in damp tendrils, his skin pale and clammy.
"You look like hell, Xander," Sam murmured as he approached the table, his voice low and smooth. He knew the boy couldn't hear him, lost as he was in whatever nightmare had claimed him, but he spoke anyway, more to hear the sound of his own voice than anything else.
Reaching the table, Sam leaned forward slightly, his hands braced on the wooden surface, the grain rough under his fingers. He observed the invisible energy roiling unseen beneath Xander's skin, frowning slightly at the sight of how chaotic it was, the patterns erratic and unpredictable, and not in the normal way.
I'd hoped you would have gotten it out of your system last night, he mused to himself. I suppose the blame is on me for underestimating how the potency of a Hellmouth can alter magic. The damned thing had the uncanny ability to grant every piece of magic cast around it something of an infernal alignment, especially if it was cast with or had to do with strong emotion. Now, something like a normal human throwing around combat magic, fire balls and lightning, that wasn't going to do much to a Devil than it normally would given their durability, but something like this…
A Primal possession… That's where the fucking trick came in. Non-direct and strongly tinged with foreign predatory anima, insidious…
Sweating like a pig in a sauna, the boy in front of him was running a temperature that would have cooked a normal person's brain in their skull, the subtle heat radiating off him in waves. And it didn't stop there, the signs of the possession were clear to anyone with eyes to see, at least eyes like his.
"... Devil blood's still young, isn't it?" Samuel mused, one hand coming up to rub at his chin thoughtfully, his red dreadlocks swaying with the motion. "Weak enough to be reduced to human and under the light of day too. No wonder a Primal spirit is causing him this much trouble."
Eating spirits or the essence of other beings was a good way to gain power.
A great one, really.
Especially if you were a Devil as weak as his current Pawn.
The unfortunate thing here could be summed up in one simple phrase: "Never eat an energy field bigger than your head."
And considering Xander barely had the combined magical essence of a dozen morties combined, well, a lot of things were bigger than his head.
Simply put, it came with problems.
Problems like this one…
Granted, he knew Xander had not intended to tread on the Path of Gluttony. The guy just didn't have it in him, honestly, and he knew that well enough. No, this was a forceful possession, one that he had to sweat out like a bad cold.
As bad as this looked, there was a good chance that Xander would be fine; really, he had more than a coin flip's chance of coming out of it alive, especially if he kept fighting. As weak and young as Xander was, only a month or so into his new life, a Fiend was not something to be ignored, their power and resilience far beyond that of a mere mortal.
Even still, Samuel wasn't one to risk an investment on a coin flip, especially one with such growth potential. Xander was a fighter, with enough rage and motivation to fight past the lethargy and natural ego that came with being a Devil, enough to get his hands dirty and grow fast quickly. Weak as he was, and he was weak, the guy was growing fast. I also don't believe in leaving things up to chance, Samuel mused, his lips curling into a slight smirk.
Ignoring that in a universe as attemptedly deterministic as this one, what was up to chance was often confusing and rarely as clear, especially in cases like this, the threads of fate and destiny tangled and knotted in ways that even he couldn't always unravel. The red-headed devil looked upwards, glancing past the ceiling with a frown, his gaze seeming to pierce through the layers of wood and plaster and insulation, through the very fabric of reality itself. Wouldn't put it past those bastards to remove one of my pieces from the board, he thought, his jaw clenching slightly, his eyes narrowing in a flash of anger that was gone as quickly as it had appeared on his face. They never did like it when someone else started playing their game.
Glancing back down at his feverish lackey, the devil held up a single finger, the digit long and slender, the nail perfectly manicured and painted a deep, glossy black. A little pinprick of energy formed at the tip of his index, hovering just above it, the air around it shimmering and distorting like a heat haze. It was dark, so dark it was almost black and would have exuded no light at all, if it weren't for the blood red energy surrounding it, flickering like sparks as it outlined the darkness, casting an eerie glow across Xander's sweat-slicked face.
"Here's a little gift," Sam said, his voice low and smooth, a hint of amusement coloring his words as he lowered his finger to Xander's chest, the energy pulsing and writhing like a living thing, eager to be unleashed. "From your King," he added, his smile widening. "You have my permission to advance."
The energy sunk into the boy's chest, disappearing beneath his skin like a drop of water into a sponge, and the young devil's chest rose, his entire body tensing as he seized in place, his back arching off the table, his mouth opening in a silent scream. For a moment, he hung there, suspended in a rictus of agony, before dropping back down to the table, still unconscious, his breathing labored and shallow.
"Give 'em Hell, Xan-Man," Sam murmured, his voice almost fond, his hand hovering over Xander's forehead for a moment before he withdrew it, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. He turned on his heels, one hand reaching up to return his headphones to his ears as the other went to his pockets to press play on his red-and-black MP3 player.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The opening notes of the song filled his ears, the melody bringing a smile to his face.
"Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name," he sang quietly as he walked through the library doors, the heavy wood swinging shut behind him with a soft thud. "But what's puzzlin' you is the nature of my game..."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"You think you're so strong?" the hyena-Xander hissed, its voice dripping with scorn as it advanced, claws ready, stalking forward with a predatory grace that sent shivers down Xander's spine. "You're not a man, you're not even human."
It cackled, the sound sharp and grating, like nails on a chalkboard, like the screech of metal on metal. "I'm gonna enjoy having my body back. And those girls..." A manic giggle spilled out of the hyena's drooling maw, its tongue lolling obscenely as it leered at Xander with a hungry gaze. "I'm gonna give Willow what you never could, every single inch of it."
His head and body hurt, aches and pains all over, the world spinning and tilting around him, but all of that vanished as those last few words hit his ears, the implication worse than a physical blow. Anger roared in his gut, a fire that burned hot as the sun. Red napalm roared in his veins as Xander reared to his feet, tearing his way free from the twisted metal of the dumpster, the jagged edges tearing at his skin, drawing blood that sizzled and smoked on contact with the air. "YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER!" he roared, fist slamming into the hyena's hunched torso with a force that would have shattered concrete, that would have pulverized bone.
The hyena-Xander recoiled, snarling, its eyes flashing with a feral light as it snapped its jaws inches from Xander's face, the stench of its breath washing over him like a wave of decay. "Give me a fucking break, like you were gonna do the job?!" it taunted, its voice a guttural rasp.
"ShutupshutupSHUTUP!" Xander interjected, the words spilling from his lips frantically, his mind a whirlwind of rage and fear and something else, something darker. He dodged a swipe of the creature's claws, the razor-sharp talons passing so close he could feel the air displacement, and threw a hook that grazed the hyena's ear, drawing a thin line of blood.
He felt the burning power inside him spike with every punch, growing and roaring in his veins and muscles with every passing second, a fire that threatened to consume him, to burn him alive from the inside out. "You don't talk about her like that!"
The creature cackled, its laugh maddening in the echoing alley, bouncing off the walls. "But you can think about her that way?!" It feinted left, then struck hard with its tail, catching Xander off-guard and sending him stumbling back, his footing unsure on the blood-slick grass-covered concrete ground.
Xander stumbled but managed to catch himself, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with the effort, lungs burning with every breath. "I'll kill you!" he panted, dodging another lash of the tail and grabbing it, his fingers sinking into the flesh like knives, pulling the creature toward him with inhuman strength. "You fucking fake!"
The hyena-Xander struggled against his grip, its eyes wild, its muscles straining as it tried to pull away, to escape the iron grasp of Xander's fury. "But I'm real, Xander! Real as your fears of ending up alone, drunk, worthless—just like—"
"Shut up!" Xander cut him off, his voice a primal scream, a sound that tore at his throat like broken glass as he threw the creature over his shoulder, the motion fluid and effortless, as if the beast weighed nothing at all. It hit the ground with a thud, the impact shaking the alleyway, but swiftly rolled back to its feet, its eyes blazing with hate and hunger.
"Touchy, aren't we?" it taunted. Cackling, it lunged at Xander with claws outstretched, talons gleaming. "Can't handle the tru-"
Xander interrupted the monster with a roar, black and red energy surrounding his right arm as he pulled it back, the power inside him surging and pulsing like a living thing, like a separate entity that resided within his flesh. He shot forward, slamming into the hyena's face with a hard straight jab, knocking the beast back with a force that would have sent a man's head flying.
The hyena whimpered from the blow, the sound pathetic and small, before snarling again, its green eyes glowing with a hatred that burned like acid.
Xander spun to dodge another claw strike, slamming a back fisted strike into the side of the hyena's jaw, the creature's head snapping to the side with a sickening crack, before following up with another hard jab, this one angled low into its chest, the blow driving the air from its lungs in a whoosh of rancid breath. "Get out of my head!" he screamed, his voice raw and ragged as he countered with a knee to the creature's abdomen, feeling it connect solidly.
"You know the girls see you, Xander, like everybody else," the hyena-Xander gasped, still managing to twist and claw at Xander's side, the talons tearing through his shirt, through his skin, drawing blood. "They see the loser—"
"SHUT UP!" Xander interrupted, grabbing the hyena-Xander by the shoulders and slamming it against the alley wall, the bricks cracking under the impact, the mortar crumbling to dust beneath his hands.
The hyena-Xander laughed, even as it struggled to free itself, its body writhing and twisting in Xander's grasp like a snake. "They already see the loser! What happens when they see the real you?"
The devil growled, a sound that was more animal than human, more beast than man, as he headbutted the creature like a man possessed, slamming his forehead over and over into its own, the impacts sending shockwaves through his skull, through his entire body.
The creature lunged in and bit down into his shoulder, its teeth sharp and digging in painfully, tearing at his flesh like knives. Xander didn't let go, simply gritting his teeth against the pain.
Black and red energy surrounded his arm as the other grabbed the monster's shoulder and he thrust forward hard. A squelching, cracking sound filled the air, as flesh gave way, as bone shattered beneath his grip.
The hyena slid back down Xander's arm as the glow faded, the boy stepping back as he shook gore from his sleeve, red fluid splattering against the alley walls like paint. The beast dropped to his knees, gore and viscera spilling from its fresh hole, blood pouring out onto the ground in a thick, dark pool.
"You're nothing!" the creature wheezed, blood pouring from its mouth, from its nose, from its eyes. "You know that?"
The grass beneath his feet disappeared, the oppressive heat shifting to a cool night as the purple alien sky overhead reigned supreme.
Xander stared down at it, his eyes cold and hard.
"At least I'm real."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Xander snapped awake, the cold surface of a table pressing against his cheek, the smooth wood a stark contrast to the fevered heat of his skin. He sat up abruptly, the room spinning slightly as he glanced around, trying to gather his bearings, his mind still fuzzy. Where am I? he thought, his brow furrowing in confusion as he took in the familiar shelves and stacks of books. The library? I'm awake!
"Hello, Xander."
The familiar voice made him turn, his head whipping around. Giles was sitting at a nearby table, looking as composed as ever behind his glasses, his hands folded neatly in front of him.
"Giles?" Xander swung his legs over the side of the table, his movements hesitant as he stood on slightly shaky legs, balance still off from whatever had happened to him. "What... how..." He trailed off, mind racing with questions.
"You've been unconscious for over twelve hours, Xander," the librarian informed him, his tone even, his expression unreadable behind the glint of his glasses.
Xander's eyes widened, and he slumped back against the table, his legs suddenly feeling like jelly. "Twelve... what? How?" His mind raced. That dream didn't feel that long!
"Possession," Giles stated simply, adjusting his glasses carefully, the action so familiar it was almost comforting. "By a hyena spirit. You recall the one from the zoo?" He nodded slowly, his face serious, his eyes boring into Xander's with an intensity that made the teenager want to squirm. "Thankfully, Buffy and I managed to return the spirit to where it belonged."
Possession? Xander shook his head, confused. Yeah, I guess that would make sense given the weird were-hyena in my head. "I..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"Willow has been by your side all day, making sure you are all right. Even assisting Buffy and I in research, attempting to help you," Giles continued.
"Where are they? I gotta... I gotta thank them," Xander stammered, feeling a surge of gratitude for his friends.
"They're at home, Xander. Long asleep, most likely. It's past midnight," Giles replied, glancing at his watch, the face glinting in the dim light of the library.
Oh.
Giles continued, his voice growing more intense, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "I've been reading even after I sent the girls home. Trying to understand your condition, to find out how to help you..." He trailed off, his gaze fixed on Xander's face, as if searching for something.
Xander forced a goofy smile, an attempt to lighten the mood. "I mean, I'm fine now, right?" He spread his arms wide, as if to show off his perfectly healthy body, his perfectly normal, non-possessed self.
Giles stared at him in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable, eyes like ice behind his glasses. "Right," he finally said, though his tone suggested he was far from convinced. "I've spent hours researching centuries of animal possessions. Death is a potential side effect, painfully and rather gory ones, in fact. But simple illness?" Giles rose to his feet, steps measured and deliberate as he approached Xander. "Far from it."
The older man walked closer, his steps measured, his gaze never leaving Xander, as if he were a puzzle to be solved, a riddle to be unraveled. "None of the research explains your situation. At all." His voice was low, almost a whisper now.
"Which leaves me with only one question," he paused, standing now just a few feet from Xander, his presence almost overwhelming in the quiet of the library.
"What exactly are you?"