Somewhere I Have Never Travelled; Book One
by Kirayoshi
Personal Demons
[reviews]
Chapter 4
Personal Demons
And we passed through the cavern of rats.
And we passed through the path of boiling steam.
And we passed through the country of the blind.
And we passed through the slough of despond.
And we passed through the vale of tears.
--Harlan Ellison
"I Have No Mouth, And I Must Scream"
The next day, I began to prepare myself.
It had been over a year since I had attempted any kind of spell. I had abandoned the practice of Wicca after Buffy's disappearance, blaming my inability in that area for what had happened to her. Now I had to rededicate myself to the art, to save her. I spent the next four days in silent meditation, cleansing my mind of all negative thoughts. I meditated repeatedly on the Wiccan Rule;
Bide the Wiccan Law ye must,
In perfect love and perfect trust.
Eight words the wiccan rede fulfill:
An' ye harm none, do what ye will.
What ye send forth comes back to thee
So ever mind the law of three.
Follow this with mind and heart,
Merry ye meet, and merry ye part.
Blessed Be.
Just saying these ancient words somehow made me feel at peace with myself. I knew that this was right, that rededicating myself to the Goddess in this manner was what I was meant to do. Tara and I had begun to memorize the elements of the Ritual of Restoration, and what I thought would be an uphill struggle turned out to be as natural as breathing. In my secret heart, I felt that we would be successful. That we would find and save Buffy.
I needed that optimism to survive the days before we could complete the ritual. Angel had told us before, from his own experiences in Hell, that time passed much more quickly in Hell than on Earth. He had been stranded in Hell for a few months, our time, but it equated to many years in Hell. I hoped that he meant that symbolically, not literally. Buffy had been gone for over a year, how much time had passed for her? Buffy could be ancient, old enough to be my grandmother. Or long dead. Angel and I had talked about it the night before the ritual, and he could only say that the Powers That Be wanted her back on earth for some purpose. At least he was led to believe that by the Oracles. I could only trust that Angel was right.
For Buffy's sake, he had to be.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The night of the full moon, we were as ready as we were gonna be.
The site of the Ritual of Restoration was an abandoned graveyard. The former site of the Initiative headquarters. The site of our last battle against Adam. The site where we lost Buffy.
And the only site where the Hellmouth could be safely opened, to allow us to get Buffy back.
Xander, Cordy, Angel, Giles, Joyce, Denise and Sandra stood in a circle around Tara and myself as we began the ritual. We required silence from the other participants, and their complete trust. The spell could only work in an atmosphere of trust and love. No negative emotions.
I had noticed something going on just before we started. I looked at Xander as he spoke with Cordy. I could hear them both clearly, and what they said made me smile;
Xander started it, saying, "Well, Cordy, looks like I'm finally putting the Zeppo to rest." This comment, referring to Cordy's old opinion of him, made her sad to hear it again.
She looked directly at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know, Xand," she started, smiling for his benefit, "there's one thing about Zeppo that I just remembered."
"And what was that?" he asked. She didn't answer at first, she just wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned in for a kiss. After the kiss, she lifted her face, stroked his hair, and smiled at him, and this time the smile was genuine.
"In those old Marx Brothers movies," she whispered, "Zeppo always got the girl." She kissed him again, quickly, and then said, "Come back alive, Xander. I always liked men in uniform." Xander smiled at Cordy, and anyone present could easily guess that their old passion had resurfaced. I had to smile as I watched them. Even though Cordy and I hadn't started as friends, that's what we became over time. And I gotta say, I always thought that she made a better choice for Xander than Anya. Of course, any woman in the world would have been a better choice than Anya.
Finally we were ready. I called for silence as Tara and I began the invocation with the Charge of the Goddess;
"Whenever ye have need of anything,
Once in the month, and better to be when the moon is full,
Then shall ye assemble in some secret place;
To these I shall teach things that are yet unknown,
And ye shall be free from all slavery.
Keep pure your highest ideal.
Strive ever toward it,
Let nothing stop you nor turn you aside.
Mine is the cup of the wine of life,
And the cauldron of Cerridwen.
I am the mother of all living
And my blood is poured out on the earth.
I am the beauty of the green earth,
The white moon among the stars,
And the mystery of the waters,
And the desire in the heart of woman.
Before my face let thine innermost divine self
Be enfolded in the raptures of the infinite.
Know the mystery,
That if that which thou seekest thou findest not within thee,
Thou wilt never find it without thee.
For behold, I have been with thee from the beginning,
And I await thee now.
Blessed be."
I motioned for Angel and Xander to join us at the center of the circle. They each had to recite one line of the spell, as each of us called for one of the four ancient elements.
Facing east, I began it;
"All hail the guardian of the Watchtower of the East, guardian of the air.
Bless us with your grace this night,
Aid us as we breach the portal to the realm of the unliving,
To find the lost soul within!"
I felt a wind lift up and caress me as I performed the ritual. A power suffused me as I spoke the words. Yes, this was working.
Angel, facing south, continued;
"All hail the guardian of the Watchtower of the South, guardian of fire.
Bless us with your courage this night,
Aid us as we breach the portal to the realm of the unliving,
To find the lost soul within!"
The wind blew fiercer, and I could tell that the others felt it too. Dark clouds formed on the horizon, and the electric smell of an oncoming thunderstorm filled the air.
It was Tara's turn;
"All hail the guardian of the watchtower of the West, guardian of Water.
Bless us with your wisdom this night,
Aid us as we breach the portal to the realm of the unliving,
To find the lost soul within!"
Lightning bracketed the skies. We were unleashing powers I had never controlled before. I started to feel fear, but I wasn't going to let it conquer me. I would see this through, no matter the personal price.
Finally, Xander spoke;
"All hail the guardian of the Watchtower of the North, guardian of Earth.
Lend us your strength this night.
Aid us as we breach the portal to the realm of the unliving,
To find the lost soul within!"
A crash of thunder drowned out the invocation, but it was enough.
Finally, we spoke the final words in unison;
Gods and Goddesses, we call to thee,
In love and trust we call to thee.
Open the mouth of Hell to us,
That we may seek our friend,
Our champion,
Our defender,
Our soulmate.
We ask this in the name of all that is good,
Of all that is sacred,
Of all that is love,
Of the love we bear our friend.
So mote it be!
The Goddess heard the words, and acted on them.
A bolt of lightning speared the space between the four of us, and the ground erupted below our feet. We managed to back away before being knocked off our feet, and were able to watch as our ritual had its desired effect.
A sinkhole formed at our feet, a vortex of unholy energies. The hole crackled with its power, with its hunger. As I stared into the abyss, a revelation came to me; into this pit were cast the souls of countless men and women, saints and sinners, martyrs and madmen. Into this pit Buffy was cast by Oz.
And, quite possibly for the first time, three souls were about to enter it willingly, expecting to emerge unscathed.
Well, too late to turn back, eh?
Tara turned to me, and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. She was afraid for me, and I understood that. Hell, I was afraid for me. But I think she was afraid for herself as well. She had confessed her attraction for me a few days ago, and was now throwing away any chance she had with me, to help bring back Buffy. My heart ached for her, and I wanted to comfort her, however briefly I could, before I left.
I think she understood what I was thinking. She just wrapped her arms around me in a fierce hug, and said, "Good luck, Willow."
"Keep a candle in the window for me," I answered.
"Extra flamey, right," Tara answered. "Go already!" She tightened her hug briefly and let go. I smiled at her and thanked her.
"Okay, guys," I said to Xander and Angel. "Last chance to back out!"
"Now why would I do a dumb thing like that?" Xander asked. "Besides, I stay behind, Cordy won't let me hear the end of it!"
"Let's do the deed, Willow," Angel added.
I nodded to my friends, and closed my eyes. "On three, then!" I shouted. "One!"
I could feel Xander holding my left hand.
"Two!"
Angel took my right.
"THREE!"
And we jumped.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
How do you describe the indescribable?
How can I give you a clear picture of what I saw when I opened my eyes and looked upon the landscape of Hell? Could anyone give a clear picture of it?
If Salvador Dali, Hieronymus Bosch, H. R. Giger and Clive Barker were to collaborate on a single work of art, that would encapsulate the darkest regions of the human soul, it would look like a Batman comic book compared to what I saw inside the Hellmouth.
We stood on a plateau, of shifting colors and textures. There was no fixed landscape, but shifting vistas and perspectives. We could only get a vague sense of things, of distances. And virtually everything in Hell was a world away from everything else, while being next to it as well. I know, makes no sense, but it's the only way to describe it. Even the three dimensions we take for granted in the 'real world' were arbitrary in this realm.
"'We few, we happy few'," Angel intoned. "'We band of brothers. For whoever sheds his blood with me this day shall be my brother'." He turned to us and said, "Shakespeare."
I nodded, thinking to myself of what this place reminded me of. "'Half a league, half a league, half a league onward'," I recited. "'All in the valley of Death rode the Six Hundred'. Tennyson."
Xander looked at us, and looked back at a horizon on fire. "'On the whole, I'd rather be in Philidelphia'. W.C. Fields." He grinned. Trust Xander to go for the jokes, even in Hell.
"So, Willow," Angel turned to me. "It's your show. Now what?"
"Now, I concentrate," I said, fighting back the rising tide of fear that threatened to undo me. I held my Mizpah coin in my hand, hard enough to leave an impression on my palm. I closed my eyes, shut out all the fear, all the uncertainty I was feeling, and concentrated on Buffy. Her eyes, her soft blond hair, her sweet smile. Everything I loved about her. I felt a strange feeling of peace, even in this unholy realm, as I brought her to the forefront of my mind and heart.
I opened my eyes, pointed, and said, "That way." Suddenly a path cleared itself before us, a path into an unearthly wilderness.
"Okay," Xander announced. "Since the other Five-hundred and ninety-seven look like a no-show, we'd better get this party started ourselves."
With that, we entered the Inferno.
We followed the path laid out before us, my sense of Buffy's presence being our only guide. Impenetrable woods flanked us on either side, and when I chanced a look behind us, our path was obscured by more wilderness. I turned to Angel for guidance, but he shook his head sadly.
"I wish I could be more helpful, Willow," he explained. "But this doesn't resemble the Hell I was trapped in. I guess it's true, we each make our own Hell."
"Any advice beyond that, Soul Boy?" Xander snapped at Angel. Angel just regarded him with a "you're-lucky-I-gotta-soul-because-otherwise-I'd-tear-your-heart-out" look.
"Just don't let anything spook you here," he said. "It's not real, everything here is an abstraction, taken from your greatest fears. Nothing here is real"
"And nothing to get up about, Strawberry Fields Forever!" Xander added.
"Well you've been warned, Xander," I shuddered, "expect to see lots of frogs." Frog fear. Still one of my main weaknesses.
"A horde of Anya-headed frogs," Xander said, giggling.
"With Cordy's temper," Angel chuckled. Hearing Xander and Angel banter back and forth, I started to feel my fear abate. Like whistling past the graveyard. I concentrated again on the soul-signal I was getting from Buffy.
Suddenly, the forest was gone, and we stood before an enormous clearing. Like a vast desert, only without even a dune or sandbar to mark a landscape. I concentrated again. I felt her again. Stronger than ever, like she was right there in front of me. But why couldn't I see her? "Buffy," I said aloud, "If you're anywhere here, please, let me know. Show me. Come back to me." The signal coalesced in my mind, and suddenly, I knew. "Straight ahead," I announced. As I spoke, a shaft of golden light appeared in front of us.
Angel looked dubious. "Could be a trap."
"I don't think so," I said. "She's here, I know it!" I wasn't as sure as I sounded, but I had to say it. To convince the others, and maybe to convince myself.
We set out again, and the light stayed ahead of us. I was reminded of the Passover Story, of how Moses led the children of Israel out of Egypt, and how God appeared before them as a pillar of flame at night and a pillar of smoke by day. I didn't know then what the light was, but it comforted me to think of God, or the Goddess, sending us this sign. It sure as hell beat the alternative.
Sure as hell. Strange choice of words there, Wills, considering the location.
As we moved forward, we heard noises, howls, cries, roars. Of agony, of unholy triumph, I didn't know. The light grew dimmer and dimmer, until it faded entirely. The flat landscape we walked gave way again, this time to a narrow corridor, infinitely high, six feet or so wide. At either side were iron bars, like jail cells. I took the risk of looking into one of them, and the sight chilled me to the marrow.
Oz. In his wolf/human transitional form. The form he was in when he betrayed Buffy, when I killed him in revenge.
Veruca, the werewolf who seduced him, who brought out his darkness, was with him, her human form fully submerged within the wolf. The two werewolves just glared at me, grinning ferally.
I jumped back toward Angel and Xander, who turned to see what was giving me the wiggens. Xander understood instantly; "Your greatest fears, Wills. Past enemies, vampires, demons, other assorted nasties we've faced over the years."
"Not real, not real, not real, not real," I repeated to myself over and over. It didn't alleviate the soul-chilling ice of Oz's eyes, entirely bereft of the good man who was once Daniel Ozbourne. I turned away from them and just kept moving forward. Always forward.
Suddenly, Xander jumped back, nearly bumping into me. "I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks, I do, I do, I do, I do believe in spooks!" he muttered.
Angel and I saw instantly what startled him. "Jack O'Toole," Angel recognized him. I nodded solemnly. I recall Xander telling us about him; while Buffy and I were concentrating on a demon who tried to open the Hellmouth, Xander tried to shake his insecurities by buying a car. He ended up hanging with a zombie gang, led by Jack O'Toole, a sadistic zombie who had his own plans for Sunnydale. Xander ended up saving the day for all of us, and we didn't know about it until later.
"Just move forward, Xand," I advised him. "He isn't real. None of it's real."
"Okay, he's not real. He's just a figment of my imagination. Oh, no he's not."
"Hey, soulboy," a voice beckoned from the cells ahead. A familiar voice, one that chilled us all.
Angel ran forward, toward the voice. He stopped short, and gaped at the speaker.
We blinked at the sight, and Xander asked, "Another Angel?"
"No," I corrected him. "Not Angel. Angelus."
The demon who wore Angel's face formed his lips into a jack-o-lantern grin. "Well, well, well. Don't you guys ever learn?"
"What, that you're just a figment of our imagination? We've all seen our greatest fears, the monsters that keep us up at nights. Mine just happens to be a piece of me. You think you can scare me just by appearing at the wrong time and place? News, Angelus, it doesn't work that way."
"I know that, friend," the demon laughed. "I know also that you're here to find your girlfriend. Or is that ex-girlfriend? That old happiness clause. Doesn't exactly make a great pickup line, does it? 'Hey babe, want to raise some Hell, literally?' I hear she's batting for the other team these days." He regarded me the way a vulture regards a large carcass in the middle of the desert. "Of course, you'd know more about that than I do-uhng!"
Angel grabbed his evil self by the neck, saying, "Not another word. I remember what it was like to be you, and I hated every moment of it. Now, give me a reason to let you live."
"How about 'you can't kill me', you putz!" Angelus spat back at him. "I'm you, Soulboy. I'm a part of you that you can't get rid of. You lose me, you lose you. I die, you die."
"Just tell us where she is, bastard!" Angel hissed through clenched teeth. He morphed into his vamp face, snarling, "I won't ask again."
"Hey, hey, peace, peace," the demon chided. "Don't get your delicates in a bunch, oh mighty anal-retentive one. She's right here," he gestured toward the end of the hallway. "Go get her."
We ran down the hallway, without even thinking whether we could trust Angelus. Or even if it was really Angelus. I saw Oz and Veruca, Xander saw Jack O'Tool, Angel saw Angelus. We all faced the monsters that hurt us the most. If we had beaten them by leaving them behind, I didn't feel it.
After an eternity of running, I felt something. The Buffy signal again. Stronger and stronger as we ran. Whatever that thing was, Angelus was honest with us at the time. Buffy was there.
We finally found ourselves in a central plaza, like an arena. Rows of cells surrounded the surreal prison yard, stacked twenty or thirty high. I squinted my eyes in the semi-darkness as I tried to see anything beyond the prison bars. A large crystal shard suddenly erupted from out of the center of the plaza. I ran toward the grisly grey shard, and stood back, thunderstruck at what I saw within the crystal.
Buffy.
In the exact same clothes she wore when she fought Adam that last time.
Her face holding the exact same expression of shock I remembered from the last time.
Her soul was embedded in that crystal. She had been trapped inside that shard from the second she entered this infernal place. In perfect suspension, unchanging. I couldn't even sense that she was aware of her surroundings.
Xander and Angel caught up with me, and saw her within the shard. "It's like she's--" Xander tried to grasp what he was seeing. "--frozen. Like suspended animation."
"Exactly what it is, Xander," Angel said. "She's been like this for God knows how long, no awareness, no consciousness. But I don't get it. She's responsible for the people in these cells being here. Why wouldn't they just torture her for eternity?"
"Who the hell cares?" Xander shouted. "Let's just get her out of there!"
"Feel free to jump in with a suggestion on how to do that, Xander," I said. "There's got to be a way to draw her out." I pondered this riddle for a few seconds, until I grew aware of the sounds of latches being unlatched, of bolts sliding out of doors, of giant hinges swinging open.
"Oh, God," Angel exclaimed, as the monsters were freed from their cells. I caught sight of their faces, their bodies; Vampires, demons, monsters. The Fear God, the Gentlemen, the Master, Lothos, the Hansel and Gretel demon, Trick, Kakistos, Belial, Mayor Wilkins, all joined by Oz, Veruca, Jack O'Tool, and Angelus. Nearly every foul thing that Buffy had faced over the course of her career as a Slayer. All in one place.
All glaring at the three of us.
"Oh, God," Angel repeated, "we were wrong. They didn't bring her here to torture her. They brought her here to keep her from escaping. To prevent her from slaying any of their brethren."
"And now that we're here," I guessed, gulping hard, "we tripped some kind of silent alarm?"
"And they're all here," Xander added, visibly shaking, "to stop us from getting her back. Any way they can." We said nothing else. There was nothing else to say. We could see it in that instant. We had failed to save Buffy.
Angelus, the ringleader of these monsters, stepped forward, arrogance visible in every stride, every look. He stopped just short of Angel's face, and announced, almost casually, "Well boys and girls, let's get ready to rumble."
And the monsters moved forward.