“Hel-lo, Hostile 17…”

“Alert control and Alpha team. We've tagged Hostile 17 with a tracer, and we're in pursuit.”

Spike staggered through the brush, in an attempt to elude the pursuing commandos. The object that penetrated the leather of his duster remained embedded in his flesh as he continued forward. Despite his earlier graceful movements, his feet had become heavy as lead weights, while he stumbled through the overgrowth.

Within moments, a weighted net fell upon him. His boots became intertwined in the mesh, bringing him to the ground with a heavy thud. Instantly, four commandos landed upon him. Crackles of electrical pulses roared within Spike’s ear, before multiple jolts surged throughout his body. In an instant, blackness consumed him.

“Alert Professor Walsh that Hostile 17 is contained and prepared for transport,”

Forrest instructed Graham, with a firm, authoritative tone. The remaining commandos retrieved an unconscious Hostile 17 from the ground. Once placed in the belly of a non-descriptive, white van, Forrest and Graham entered. Once the van door closed, the truck drove into the night.


**** ****

Voices outlined the perimeters of Spike’s consciousness. Without giving any indication of his awakening state, he began familiarizing himself with his surroundings; he was lying on concrete floor. Minimal lighting was visible through his barely closed lids. A myriad of heavy stenches permeated his sensitive nose…demons, lots of them. Within moments, two voices broke through the constant murmurs, off to his left.

“So what’s up with these two? Who the hell did these humans piss off to end up here? And what’s up with his hair?” One squeaky voiced demon inquired.

“Did you jussst hatch yesssterday? He’sss a vampire!” Another voice hissed. The demon’s voice resembled an angry snake.

“Sor…rey, heard of them. Just haven’t seen one before! My clan usually avoids them. They smell foul, like a human! Nasty!” The first voice responded. Revulsion laced his words.

“Well, ssshe sssmellsss pretty good to me. I bet ssshe tassste even better! Too bad that ssshe’ll be dead before we get to sssample her.”

“How the hell did you two last anytime in the ring, never mind on the outside? That’s a slayer!” A third voice bellowed from Spike’s right side. Demon number three now stood to his left, next to the other two demons.

“What’s a slayer?” Demon number one questioned.

“Neither of you heard of the Slayer?” Based on no response from either demon, Spike assumed that neither had a clue. His thoughts were correct, when demon number three continued, “One little girl that is sent to battle all the evil upon the earth? Not ringing any bells? You two are pathetic! I hope that they pit you against her, before the vamp over there. Then you’ll really see what a slayer is…when she’s ripping your empty heads from your necks!” Demon three scoffed.

“What…like this?”

With a sickening crack, Spike decapitated demon number three’s head with one violent twist. Demon number one, a reddish short-furred creature with large, bugged eyes and two short, twisted horns upon his head stared in shock. His reptilian counterpart, a waif thin demon with greenish scales and a head of a snake hissed,

“Yesss…like that!”

Spike glared at the two demons with disdain. He pushed past them, to see the woman who was the center of their conversation. She remained unconscious upon the floor, unaware of the events that had just transpired. A feral grin stretched across his full lips, at the tantalizing sight before him.

“Hello cutie…”


**** ****

Before Spike could step forward, toward the unconscious Slayer, the first demon spoke,

“I wouldn’t pass over that red line, if I was you. You’ll dust if you do. See that pretty bracelet you have,” Spike looked down briefly at the red line drawn upon the floor, which surrounded her. Then his gaze moved to the silver bracelet with archaic writing encircling his wrist before turning to the demon. “That’s what keeps us in line. Those red lines are all over the place. Just make sure you don’t cross them, and you’ll be fine. Well, until…oh, by the way…ripping that asshole's head off, that was like so cool! I’m Forizonoriniz, Fozi for short. You don’t know how annoying that guy was. He’s been here for a while. He was due for his twenty-first match today…well until now. Too bad he doesn’t disintegrate like you and I when we die. I don’t know how you’re going to explain it to the guy with the ponytail. Well, good luck!”



Ending his rant with a mock salute, Fozi quickly walked to the other side of the enclosure. His reptilian counterpart followed close behind. Spike’s eyes rolled at the incessant prattling demon’s departure. His gaze then returned to the woman at his feet. Dozens of pairs of feet pounding upon concrete rang in his ears and rerouted his gaze.


Within moments, a dozen heavily armed men with cattle prods and several with cross bows entered from the far right. In the middle of the group, stood a middle aged, heavyset man wearing an ill-fitting business suit.

“I see that you’ve made yourself welcome, vamp. Well, you’re lucky you have a date with an important woman, so I won’t take that loss out on your hide.”

With that, he turned to head back up the stairwell, with a casual wave of his bejeweled hand the guards sprang into action. They moved in sync, six surrounded Spike, while the remaining six kept weapons trained on the other demons in the enclosure.

Despite being a master vamp, Spike admitted momentary defeat. Resigned to his current situation, Spike moved toward the direction the guards motioned to. Under trained weapons, he ascended a set of stairs, toward a back entrance. The guards proceeded to shackle Spike, and put him in another van. After approximately twenty minutes, they reached their destination.

Despite the whirlwind of movements, being removed and forced forward, Spike noticed he was in an underground loading area. With a deep intake of unneeded breath, he assumed he was in a major city, due to the smog that filled his lungs.

“Maybe LA?” He thought to himself, as all six heavily armed guards silently herded him into a freight elevator. When it finally stopped its ascent, the door opened to the 13th floor. Spike was then ushered through several doors and now stood outside an ornate wooden entrance. Without any notification, the door opened from the inside, into a spacious office.

With forceful shoves, Spike was escorted to the chair placed in the middle of the room. Once seated, Spike noticed a sizeable oak desk, set further back. An attractive, polished woman leaned on its edge. She had wicked gleam in her eyes and mischievous smirk upon her full lips. The man from earlier, stood off to the side looking malicious, while sipping his drink.

“Welcome, Mr. Spike. Gentleman, I don’t think our guest is planning to do anything unwise. On the contrary, I believe he will be very well behaved. Don’t you agree, Mr. Spike?” Spike gaze remained upon the woman, while she addressed his entourage. Once she finished speaking, her gaze settled upon him, to confirm her words.

“Yes luv. I’ll behave. Be a good boy, I will.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

Four guards continued to train their weapons upon Spike, as two removed his shackles. Once they were finished, they all left the room. Spike’s gaze remained locked with the woman’s, before she spoke,

“I hope that your trip here was pleasant?”

“Yeah, I will be writing to the Zagat’s guide about the accommodations. Bloody brilliant they were,” Spike responded sarcastically.

“Well, I apologize for any inconvenience to you Mr. Spike…”

“It’s just Spike luv. And you are?”

“Oh, I apologize for my rudeness. I’m Lilah Morgan, an attorney for Wolfram and Hart, and you have already met Mr. Darin MacNamara.” With a slight nod of her head, she motioned toward the other man.

“Yeah, a bloody great host he is. Well, now that we’ve had our introductions, why am I here, Lilah?” Spike purred her name, in an attempt to use his charm to find out the reason for all of this.

“Straight to business, I like that about a man. Well, vamp. You’re here for one reason and one reason only, to kill a slayer.” Spike’s mind was set ablaze from her words, despite her candid tone. Regardless of his interest, he retained his stoic features.

“Been there, done that…twice. I enjoy the crunch, the rush. The two slayers who lives, I took, were during battles of life and death…, which of course, was theirs. The slayer you had trussed up in that basement was unconscious. The way she was would be like shooting fish in a bloody barrel. The excitement all but lost.” Spike appeared uninterested in the conversation, while he picked at his chipping nail polish.


“I’m aware of your achievements; the first slayer, Xin Rong, during the Boxer Rebellion in China, 1900. The second was Nikki Woods, New York 1977. The first, subsequent to a lengthy battle, you got the upper hand, and tore out her throat. Well, after she gave you a permanent scar upon your left brow. You proceeded to share her blood with your past paramour and sire, Drusilla. The second, Nikki, you snapped her neck, after a fierce battle which took place on the subway. You stripped her of her leather trench, which you now wear as a badge of honor.”


The reference to Drusilla stung slightly, but Spike continued as if nothing was amiss, his trained gaze fell upon her, sarcasm returned to his tone,


“And Spike this is your life! Impressed luv, someone has been doing their homework. Gold stars for you. Yeah, on that note, where is my leather? Feel right naked without it.”

At this, Lilah began to eye him hungrily. Her gaze roamed over his slouched form, lingered upon the impressive swell encased within his jeans. After her leisurely perusal, her gaze finally met his.

“I take it, you like what you see…can smell it. Maybe if you get rid of the King of Bling over there, I can assist with that incessant niggling.” Once Spike’s words ended, his tongue snaked forward, and curled against the front of his teeth.

Lilah’s gaze became immediately fixed on his tongue. Her mind was flooded with all the possibilities that could transpire with this impressive specimen before her. A loud throat clear echoed through the room, breaking Lilah’s stare.


“Can we please get on with the reason why the vamp’s here? And as a hint, it’s not for a love connection,” Darin spat out, while he approached her. Ignoring the irritating man near by, Lilah’s huffed slightly disappointed words,


“If we must.”

“Fine, take all the fun out of it Pops. The exact reason for me being here is? Actually, first off, how did I get here? Where-ever here is?”

“Well, let me give you a brief overview. Wolfram and Hart have many business associates that require our services. That includes the government. Within the last months, a new governmental facility has opened within Sunnydale. This facility was opened to deal with the increasingly large numbers of HSTs…” Spike’s curiosity piqued, with her explanation.

“HSTs?”

“Hostile sub-terrestrials. This increase of HSTs has activated a group called the Initiative…”

“Those are the bloody wankers that stuck this soddin’ chip in my noggin! There the reason why I’m here!” Spike roared. His demon visage flashed forward. He stood, knocking his chair backwards.

In mere moments, six guards stormed into the room, one armed with a Tazer. With inhuman speed, Spike grabbed Lilah, placed her between him and the guards, her desk at their backs. Darin, cowered behind a leather couch, which was far away from the current action.

Spike in full game face, snarled at the guards. His hand wrapped aggressively around Lilah’s throat. Despite the situation, Lilah calmly told the guards all was under control and to leave. Regardless of their hesitation, they followed her request. Once the door closed, she continued her calm tone.


“Now, can we finish our discussion? I feel that once you’ve heard the terms that we will set forth, you will find this merger quite profitable for all of us.”

Despite her position, an angered master vamp near her throat, Lilah did not give off any uncertainty nor fear with the situation. Spike ground his erection against the swell of her ass, while he ran his raspy tongue along the column of her throat. Her lids fluttered from the tactile assault. Within an instant, he was gone. Seated back in his chair, he faced the flushed woman. A prominent smirk adorned his lips.

“Please, do continue.” A wave of Spike’s hand, urged her continuation.

Upon hearing Spike’s voice, Darin peered from his leather barricade. Once he deemed the situation to be under control, he proceeded to sit upon the couch. The ice within his drink, rattled in the glass, due to the shaking of his hand. Both ignored him, while Lilah continued,

“Where was I…”

“The Initiative, the bloody sods, that created this shite storm that has been falling on my head since their little operation.”

“Yes, well, the Initiative has successfully contained many species of demons and the like within their subterranean units. Some of the population, they have captured have been, for a lack of a better term, more suited for our purposes instead of theirs. Ultimately, with negotiations, each entity has found lucrative advancements.”

“That’s all well in good, but what does that have to do with me?” Spike’s gaze narrowed. Suspicion laced his words.

“You have been on our radar since your little excursion to LA several months back. When you were on the search for the vampire’s holy grail…”

“The Gem of Amara?”

“Exactly, when you arrived, you caused a slight upheaval with the locals. Especially with one resident vamp which our firm denotes as a high priority.”

“So, I tortured my grandsire a little. He’s still about, fighting the good fight, for soccer moms and kittens or some such. No harm, no foul I say.”

“Which is true, except your little visit put you on our radar, along with him. Once we were informed of your recapture by the Initiative, Wolfram and Hart felt that you would be a nice addition to our venture.” Spike’s brow furrowed at her statement, which held in place during his response.


“What type of venture would this be?”

“A fight club, a demon fight club to be more precise. Together we came to an agreement, after many negotiations, your skills are better suited here. It would be a waste to dissect a fine specimen, like you. In addition, this opportunity offers you the freedom, where theirs does not. Well, unless you consider death a freedom.”


“How pray tell does one go about winning their freedom?”

“Once you have won twenty-one matches. Then you are released, simple as that.”

“It’s never that simple, but let’s just say it is, where does the Slayer fit into all this?”

“Each of you will be the others final battle, the twenty-first win. The Pièce de résistance! The battle of the decade! William the Bloody, Master Vampire, the Slayer of Slayers against his sworn enemy. The crowds will eat it up! Ten-thousand dollars for entry into the building that night, with an addition five-thousand fee for the main event…” Lilah’s gaze became hazy, while she calculated the promise of substantial amounts of money, within her head.

“I appreciate her death will be lucrative to you luv, but there is one slight problem…”

Lilah’s gaze cleared. Her eyes studied the vamp before her before she questioned,

“Which is?”

“The soddin’ chip they shoved in my noggin. I can kill demons, but humans are a no go. So sorry to rain on your monetary parade…” Spike’s words were cut off mid way, by Lilah’s retort,

“That is no longer a problem.” A definitive nod followed her words.

“But…what? How is that no longer a problem? Even when I threaten a human, bolts of electricity surge…wait a minute. Earlier, when I used you as a human shield, there was no buzzing in my noggin. Didn’t think anything of it until now. So you mean…”

“The chip is deactivated, yes. Think of it as a little early reward for your wins. In addition, your accommodations will be better than your demon counterparts will. We need you fit for winning. As a matter of fact…” Lilah walked around her desk. Once she reached the phone, she pressed a button and spoke into the speaker. A muffled “Yes?” came through the other end.

“Yes, please send in Spike’s advancement. Thank you.”

Spike looked at Lilah, confused. With a teasing smirk, she returned his gaze, until the sound of two people entering, broke their stare.

Spike turned to witness a petite blonde, being escorted into the room. A brawny man, held both of her arms behind her back. With a nod from Lilah, he released her and took position at the door. In the middle of the room, she stood shaking. The heavy stench of her fear, rolled off her in waves. With a quaking voice she begged those before her,

“Please, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I just want to go home…please…”

While she begged to whoever would listen, Spike’s gaze fell upon Lilah. With a slight nod and tilt of her chin towards the girl, he rose from his seat. Slowly, he stalked forward. Filling his senses, the combination of the heady scent of fear wafting from her and the racing blood pounding within her veins, made him ache.

Spike placed his hand upon her shoulders. As the woman’s big green eyes beheld him, his face contorted to his vampire visage. With a scream, she heralded his transformation. In a instant, Spike roared, as he roughly pulled her forward. Fangs pierced the column of her throat. With greedy gulps, he devoured her life’s essence. His feast, was the only sound that was heard, until Lilah announced with satisfaction,


“Wonderful! We’re all in agreement.”









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