Title: Scary Monsters
Posted at GT: 14-Jan 05
Category: Crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Summary: When a series of bizarre murders occur in Sunnydale, Angel doesn’t pay much attention. But when the wrong person is attacked, Angel rushes into action.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: just ask
Thanks/Dedication:To my math teacher, MissKitieFantasticoI hope my new equation is to your liking.
“Do we need to kill this one?”
The man turned to his companion. She was standing above a young woman lying on the ground. “No, Jordan, we don’t need to kill that one. She needs to be alive.” Jordan sighed in relief.
“That’s good,” Jordan said. “I don’t like that we have to kill so many people.”
Joshua finished slicing his victim’s chest open with his knife. He began to pull out some of the young man’s intestines from his gut and tossed them about the alley. “I know, Jordy, but some people need to die. They have to if we want to get his attention. But we will only hurt that one, okay?”
Jordan nodded her agreement. She didn’t like killing, but Joshua was right. Some needed to die if they wanted his attention.
Joshua finally found the end of the small intestine. He looked above him and tossed the intestine up and around a fire escape stairwell. He then wrapped a section of the boy’s intestine around his neck, and grabbing the end, hoisted the kid up. A nice little noose. Joshua then tied the end of the intestine to a dumpster so that the boy stayed hanging.
“Jordy, you got that paintbrush?” Joshua asked.
Jordan reached around and pulled a paintbrush from her back pocket. Joshua took the item and stuck it in the boy’s gut until it was soaked in blood. He found a clean section of wall and began to paint his message. After a minute, he smiled in satisfaction. That should get his attention.
“Can we go now, Joshua?” Jordan asked. “I’m hungry.”
“Yes we can,” Joshua informed her. “We just have one quick thing to do first.” He tossed the paintbrush aside and led Jordan out of the alley. Even though it was nine in the evening, there was heavy activity along the street. He cleared his throat before he shouted.
“Someone call 9-1-1! There’s somebody dead in here!” That got everyone’s attention. Dozens rushed towards the alleyway entrance and stood shocked at the sight before them. Joshua and Jordan slipped through the awestruck crowd hand in hand.
In the alley, Cordelia Chase roused from unconsciousness to see the body of her disemboweled cousin hanging limply above her. And behind him, written in blood on the wall was a short phrase.
I AM CALLING YOU OUT
Cordelia slipped back into the darkness.
“There was another one?” Willow cringed.
Giles set aside his book and proceeded to wipe his glasses. The group was all gathered at the Magic Box. Word had quickly spread through town about the vicious disembowelment. It was the sixth murder in the past two weeks.
But it seems this one had several key differences.
“Yes,” Giles said. “A young man named Peter Marks. He was sliced open and then hung from a fire escape, his small intestine used for a noose. Quite brutal from all accounts.”
“But this one is different,” Buffy observed.
“Absolutely. It seems that the woman wasn’t killed. The police haven’t released her name. Also, the message the police found seems to have contained a name. Plus the obvious fact this murder didn’t take place in someone’s home. It seems the only reason the police know it is connected is because of the matching handwriting. As it is, I have Spike doing some legwork as we speak. Hopefully he can rustle up some specifics.”
“Spike?” Xander asked. “Yeah, that’s a guy whose info you want to trust.” The gang just stared at him for a moment. “What?” he defended. “I’m not the only one thinking it.”
True, Buffy thought. “Do we have any idea who is behind all this?”
“After reading dozens of Watcher Diaries, demonology manuals, black arts rituals, and other paranormal volumes, I can safely say nope.” Giles took a long sip from his cup of coffee.
He didn’t like being stumped, and right now, he was stumped.
Spike pushed away the sewer grate and jumped up into the alley. He breathed a sigh of relief that the alley was cloaked in shadows. The last thing he wanted was to become a crispy critter.
His demon senses immediately began to tune into his surroundings. Sight, smell, and hearing all went into overtime. His nose was twitching at the vaguely familiar smell that permeated the alley. No, not the scent of urine. He’d caused plenty of victims to piss themselves before he killed them.
This was human.
Spike shrugged the sensation off. He stepped underneath the fire escape. The smell of bowel was still highly prevalent. He then noticed the message.
“Liam?” That was Angelus’ name. Suddenly that vaguely familiar scent came back to the front of his mind. He needed to get to the hospital.
He had to see who this mystery woman was.
Spike hated hospitals with a vengeance. To a human, scent was only a minor part of their existence. But to a vampire, scent was not only a major part of their life, it was also a great comfort. And hospitals, yuck, hospitals didn’t have a smell.
Unless you counted antiseptic and bleach as a smell. It was all so…sterile. And Spike didn’t like that.
The vampire tried to be inconspicuous as he attempted to find out where the mystery girl was located. However, a pale-faced man in a black leather duster and bleach blonde hair could hardly blend in.
The ICU desk worker was giving him strange looks. She was about to get up and confront him when Spike caught a lucky break. Her phone rang.
Shameful, Spike thought, to use company time to talk to your boyfriend. Oh well, he’d make the most of it. He silently crossed over to the wall where patient clipboards hung. Nope, nope, nope. He flipped though the clipboards, trying to find a familiar name. Nope, nope, Jane Doe? Possible. Nope, nope, nope.
Looks like Jane Doe might be his best bet.
Spike replaced the clipboard just as the desk worker hung up the phone. When the young woman looked up, Spike was long gone.
Spike was only vaguely surprised to find Cordelia Chase resting in one of the hospital’s overly hard beds. Her eyes were closed. Sensors were attached to her head and chest. She looked so small and fragile.
She also looked like she had gotten the shit knocked out of her.
He entered the room quietly and stood beside the bed. Spike brushed back a few strands of her hair. Did Angel know she was here? No, he mustn’t. Otherwise he would probably be camped out in the corner chair.
“Excuse me?” Spike turned to find a nurse standing in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?” She looked ready to sick security on him. “Nobody should be in here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Sorry love,” Spike apologized. “I just wanted to see how she was. I know this girl.”
The nurse’s eyes widened at that. “You do? What is her name? She didn’t have any identification on her.”
“Cordelia Chase. She’s originally from here. Been in LA the past few years.”
“Does she have any family in town?”
Spike shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t have a clue. “But there is someone in Los Angeles who would like to know she’s okay. She is okay, isn’t she?”
“She’s been unconscious for the most part since she was brought in,” the nurse answered. “She’s woken a couple times for short periods, but her body and mind is trying to heal. By the way, this person you’re talking about, is it a husband or boyfriend.”
Spike shrugged his shoulder again. “With this guy, who knows? Listen, do you have a phone around here?”
“Use the phone at the front desk. And thank you for coming by. We were wondering who this poor girl was.”
Spike smiled slightly at the nurse and exited the room. When he asked to use the desk phone, the woman stared at him skeptically for a few moments until the nurse assured her it was okay. The vampire took the phone and dialed ‘0’.
“Hello, operator? Yes, I need you to look up a number for me. Los Angeles. Hyperion Hotel. Angel Investigations. Yeah, can you dial that for me? Thanks.” The phone only rang twice before a chipper woman answered.
“Angel Investigations,” Fred answered. “We help the helpless.”
“Yeah,” Spike drawled. “You wouldn’t happen to be missing a brunette girl would you?”
“Cordelia is away visiting relatives, if that’s who you are referring to. And as for me, well, I’m right here, but you probably knew that considering you dialed this number and I’m the one who answered and all.”
Spike sighed heavily. Angel really needed to hire better receptionists.
“Yeah, well, tell Angel his girl is in a Sunnydale hospital unconscious. He might want to fetch her.” He nearly dropped the phone when the girl yelled out for Angel. “Whatever Angel pays you, it isn’t enough.”
He hung up the phone just as Angel yanked the receiver from Fred’s hand.
“Hello?” Angel spoke. He heard nothing but dial tone.
Gunn and Fred watched as Angel tossed a bag into his convertible. Gunn handed the vampire a cooler full of blood packets. Angel promptly loaded that up, then took the sword and hurling axe Fred held. It was only after Angel had all his supplies loaded that Gunn finally asked the big question.
“You sure you don’t want us coming along?”
“Yup.” Angel patted his pockets trying to find his car keys. Fred reached into her side pocket and pulled them out. Angel caught them easily. “Somebody needs to hold the fort. Besides, I’m the only son of a bitch that gets to kill the cocksucker that laid a hand on Cordelia.”
“I don’t mean to sound snooty or anything,” Fred interrupted, “but maybe you should learn to channel your anger into something positive. Perhaps you could internalize that anger and use it creatively. Perhaps by painting or sculpture.”
Gunn and Angel just stared at her. “You’ve been reading too many self-help books,” Gunn informed her.
Fred looked away in embarrassment. “Just because I want to maximize my potential.” She turned back to Angel and smiled. “Have a nice trip. Try not to kill too many people.”
“Uh, okay.” Angel stepped around to the passenger seat and hopped in. He fired up the engine, popped the clutch, and shifted into drive. “Take care. You know where I’m at if you need me.”
“Likewise.” The pair watched as Angel drove off into the overcast afternoon.
“You think he’ll be okay?” Fred asked.
“Yup. He’s Angel.”
“You think he’ll kill whoever hurt Cordelia?”
“Yup. He’s Angel.”
“The woman is Cordelia Chase?” an astonished Giles asked.
“And you called Angel?” Buffy shouted. “What the hell is wrong with you? We don’t need him here. We can handle this.”
“News flash love. It’s been two weeks and the situation has yet to be handled. Besides, don’t you think calling Angel was the right thing? Don’t you think Angel might be concerned?”
“Over Cordelia?” Xander asked. “Doubtful. There’s only one person he ever cared about.”
“Xander, that’s not fair,” Dawn admonished. “Just because she rightfully dumped you doesn’t mean you have the right to be a meanie.”
“Yeah, well, I still think it was right,” Spike defended. “Anyway, if Angel has even an iota of feelings for the girl, he’ll come down here, hunt down whatever demon or other nasty hurt her, and he’ll kill it.” Spike snorted loudly and moved to light a cigarette before realizing how close to Dawn he was.
“Plus, just because you’re not anxious to see your ex-lovey doesn’t mean the Poof can’t help.”
“Okay, since when have you defended Angel?” Willow asked. “It’s okay, I mean, cause Angel’s a nice guy when he’s not all broody or homicidal.” Her nose crinkled as she considered her statement. ““I’m not so sure now, because I don’t think I’ve seen him any other way.”
The sound of knocking at the Summers’ front door interrupted any further conversation. Dawn was the one who got up to answer.
The vampire stood there and shifted about anxiously. “It helps when I’m invited in.”
“Oh, yeah, come in.”
Angel pushed past Dawn and strode into the living room. To the shock of everyone he immediately confronted Spike, ignoring all of them including Buffy. To his grandchilde he asked a simple question.
“Where is she?”