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Ch 4 - A Haunted Past
Disclaimer: These characters in no way belong to me. They are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Productions, and Twentieth Century Fox. The story, however, is totally my own creation. This is the second book in my Kindred Series.
Kindred Series
Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK TWO
THE PAST REVISITED
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
Chapter Four
A Haunted Past
Angel started to slowly reach out, but William flinched back immediately, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably and his jaw working. He still wasn’t saying anything…just staring bug-eyed at Angel like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but that it was clearly the most horrible sight he could have imagined. That wasn’t too far off track, as would soon become clear to everyone in the room. Buffy was struggling to hold Dawn back from rushing to William’s side. She didn’t know what was going on here or what had happened to cause it, but William was obviously very freaked out over something. The tension was so thick between him and Angel that everyone could feel it. She started to ask what was going on, but Giles caught her eye and shook his head. He motioned for everyone to remain still while Angel resolved the situation. He didn’t know what had happened either, but he felt that Angel had a better chance of understanding and resolving it, or of overpowering William if that became necessary, than anyone else right now. William was obviously on edge and could lose control at any moment. The best bet for all of them to avert a dangerous situation was to remain calm and let one person handle it. Although he really didn’t understand what could have possibly set William off like this, he didn’t doubt for a moment that he was right to keep the others from interfering. Fortunately, Buffy for once had decided to defer to his judgment and was keeping a tight grip on Dawn quietly reassuring her that Angel would figure this out and fix it. She certainly hoped he would anyway, and quick!
Meanwhile, Angel had lowered his arms to his side and was doing his best to relax his posture in an effort to help calm William down. He’d never seen his grandchilde like this before and he was more concerned than he let on. He opened his mouth to speak, when William suddenly launched himself away from the bar and ran pell-mell for the French doors. Fearing that they would lose him again, Angel quickly followed with the others not far behind. He needn’t have worried though. William had darted outside but didn’t run off. Instead, he immediately dropped to his knees in the grass outside and began retching loudly. Angel simply stared at him in shock for several moments, not knowing how to react to this turn of events at all. What in the world had happened to have this effect on William? He started to turn around and admit to the others that he was at a complete loss as to what was going on when he caught a glimpse of the expression on Dawn’s face. She was staring at William with a pained expression and had tears running down her face. After Buffy, William was clearly the most important person in the world to Dawn and his pain was her own. No matter what happened, he had to try to figure this out for Dawn’s sake. Taking an unnecessary breath, Angel turned back around and started toward William again. By this time, William had stopped throwing up. He was sitting up clutching his knees protectively against his chest and rocking back and forth. He was muttering a desperate litany of “no, no, not possible, no, no” over and over again. William’s eyes were still glazed over, but as Angel knelt down by him, he spoke. And what he said was the last thing that Angel ever would have expected to hear.
“It was you. I always thought it was my imagination, but it wasn’t. It was you. You killed them. I saw you. Oh, God. It was you. It was real. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.” His words were lucid by this time, but the emotions that were coursing through his voice, the tremors racking his body, and the way his eyes still wouldn’t focus on anyone clearly told that he was in shock. Angel didn’t have any idea what William was referring to by this point, so he simply sat down a respectful distance away and asked him what he was talking about. William didn’t answer at first. He just sat there rocking with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes still darting around wildly. Buffy was so distracted by the distraught picture William presented that she failed to notice when Dawn wiggled away from her grasp. Suddenly Dawn was kneeling next to William, wrapping her arms around him tightly and hugging him fiercely. She murmured to him in a soothing tone. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us. You’re with friends now and you don’t have to be scared.” She continued to repeat phrases like that to him as she rocked with him, tears now running down both of their faces. No one else interfered, sensing that Dawn just might get through to him.
After what seemed like an eternity, William’s shoulders finally stopped quaking and he let go of his knees to wrap his arms loosely around Dawn and return her hug. He even managed a shaky smile for her benefit. “Thanks, pidge. I needed that.” His voice was very quiet and a bit shaky still, but at least he could sit upright now. Dawn smiled back in relief and released him from the bear hug, but didn’t move away. She settled down next to him and held his hand tightly for support. William looked down at this simple gesture of support and his heart swelled with love and gratitude for this caring young woman next to him. He knew he needed to explain to them why he had reacted so just now, but he took a moment to silently promise that whatever happened next, he would do everything in his power to protect this slip of a girl who had claimed his heart and his affection tonight. He squeezed her hand back and glanced over at the others before settling on a point of reflected moonlight on the open French doors to focus on. He knew this would be hard to say and he didn’t think he could manage if he had to look directly at any of them… particularly HIM. He swallowed hard several times before finally starting to speak slowly, sharing a story that no one alive or dead had ever heard before that moment.
“When I was growing up, before my father passed away, we used to summer in the country. Mum and dad had a small estate where we would vacation…nothing fancy. Times spent there were quiet, filled with fishing and picnicking and lazy days. To me though, they were the best of times because that was when I got to visit with Henry and Rose.” A wistful smile crossed his face as he talked of happy childhood times. “Henry and Rose were the closest to grandparents that I ever knew. Mine had passed away when I was still very young. As they had no children of their own, Henry and Rose kind of adopted me. I would go over to their house most days and help Rose with her baking or Henry with his woodcraft. Some times they would take me with them on long horseback rides in the country. And on rare occasions Henry would take me up to his attic where he kept all the old family artifacts and tell me stories about those items. He had relatives who had traveled far and wide and there were lots of interesting stories to hear, especially for a young boy who had never been anywhere before. I had tons of questions for him about absolutely everything, and there wasn’t anything that Henry wouldn’t talk to me about…except for one old trunk that held a number of journals. He absolutely refused to discuss them. I still remember the pained expression on his face the day I found that trunk and opened it. He shut it back and told me that some things were better left unopened, and that it simply wasn’t proper subject matter for a young boy to delve into anyway. I was only 7 at the time, and that explanation only served to fuel my curiosity, as there had never been a subject that Henry had shut me out on before that day. I didn’t say anything then, but I wondered greatly about it over the next few years. When I was 10, I brought it up again one day when we were alone. I could tell that Henry didn’t want to discuss it and he hesitated so long in answering me that I regretted asking. I was just about to apologize and retract my question, when he finally started to speak.” William’s voice drifted off and he was silent for a moment remembering that day like it had just passed. He took a deep breath, shook off his momentary stupor and started again.
“It turns out that one of Henry’s distant relatives had been involved in some kind of organization called the Watchers Council and the journals had belonged to him.” He missed the surprised expression on Giles’ face at this statement as he recounted his story. “Henry had never actually read them himself. He told me that this relative had died a very painful and gruesome death. The journals supposedly held dark and evil secrets or so the family legend went. They had been passed down over the years, but to the best of his knowledge, no one had ever had the nerve or the desire to actually see what was in them. I, of course, immediately wanted to read them all right then and there to see what they had to say. I started making all kinds of wild suppositions about their contents until Henry finally laughed and admitted that he’d always been a tad bit curious himself. He agreed that I could help him go through the journals on the condition that he take the first look alone, in the event that they contained material that was not suitable to someone of my youth. I didn’t particularly want to hear that, but he wouldn’t brook on that subject, so I agreed to wait. He picked up the first journal and took it downstairs when Rose called up that dinner was ready. Henry and Rose were headed to the city for a ball that weekend and wouldn’t be returning until the following week. He told me he would read the first journal on his trip and we would tackle the rest together when he returned. He also made me promise not to sneak into the house while he was gone and start reading the others in his absence.” A wry smile crossed William’s face at the memory of that loving, knowing admonishment.
“I was never sure exactly what happened in London or what Henry learned from that first journal. All I know is that he and Rose were gone for several days longer than originally anticipated. And there I was – waiting – just itching to get my hands on those journals and read them for myself. So, I went to their house every day, some times several times a day, looking for their return. I was quite impatient by the time they finally did come back…but it was with quite an entourage in tow. That really surprised me, because Henry and Rose had very little company when they stayed in the country. That was their private time and they both valued it greatly, so to see a house full of folk was quite astonishing… But not half as much as when Henry saw me standing on the porch and came to get me to meet the folks at his house. He introduced me around to all these fine society gentlemen as the “one responsible for this find” and “the only reason it ever came to light.” I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on at first. I was finally able to deduce that Henry had apparently found something worthwhile in that journal and that he had shared this with the others. They, in turn, had come out to the country to see the whole trove for themselves and inspect the findings. From what I gathered, they were members of this Watchers group. They hauled that trunk down out of the attic while I was there and fussed and fretted over the contents. They were worse than a bunch of kids on Christmas morn. You should have seen them calling out excitedly about this “set of works” or that “scroll” or the “journal of so and so” that they had just unearthed. Apparently, underneath that top layer of journals, there was a whole mess of valuable old documents and writings that had been missing for years. The men all fussed over me and thanked me for my contribution and what all, and Rose clucked over me proudly like some mother hen.”
“I was a little stunned by this turn of events and a bit disappointed too, to tell the truth. I had been looking forward to exploring the trunk with Henry, just the two of us poring over those journals for hours at a time. I guess my feelings showed a bit, because Henry took me aside and apologized to me that we wouldn’t be able to go through the books and stuff together, but thanked me for getting him to start reading the journals. He told me that if I hadn’t pushed him, a great historical find might have remained lost for centuries to come. While that was all good and fine, I was still dissatisfied. I guess my expression gave that away, because Henry told me that if I wanted to come back later that night after dinner…he’d explain it all to me as best he could and let me look over any of the documents I wanted to see. Apparently the men were taking the trunk and everything in it back to London the next day, so I’d have to grab my only opportunity to go through its contents that night if I wanted to see any of it. I eagerly promised to return after dinner as soon as I could sneak out from under my mother’s watchful eye. I’ll never forget how Henry stood on the porch watching me and that just before I left, he stooped to hug me and told me that he was very proud of me… couldn’t be more proud than if I was his own grandson. My face was flushed with love for this man as I ran home to dinner. Like most people of that day, my family didn’t show much open affection. So, to hear these words from Henry meant everything to me.” William’s face openly reflected the pleasure of this memory and he felt suffused with the feelings that were surfacing as all this came back after being suppressed for so long. His smile faded as he recalled what happened next though. It was several moments before he could speak again to tell the rest of his tale. The others were silent…waiting for him to continue…seeing the emotional struggle to retain control as he talked, but totally caught up in his tale. Dawn squeezed his hand gently again and William found the strength to continue.
“I waited until my folks thought my sister and I were asleep and then I shimmied down the roof and jumped into a nearby tree to get down. I had snuck out on the roof many times before to watch the stars or just to think, but I usually didn’t wander around too much at night. There were rumours of wild beasts that lived in the nearby woods and I had no desire to ever meet anything like that. I remember that the night was deathly still as I made my way to Henry and Rose’s house. I was so excited that I was almost there before I realized that I couldn’t hear any of the normal summer sounds – no crickets, no frogs, no breeze even – and I started to get a bit nervous. It just wasn’t natural…this extreme quiet. I usually came to Henry and Rose’s by the back way, which brought me to the kitchen entrance. The door was ajar when I got there which was highly unusual. I was a bit unnerved by that on top of unnatural silence, so I quietly let myself in. I turned around and immediately I saw Rose. She was just lying there in a heap on the floor in this big puddle of blood. I just stood there for a minute totally frozen by the sight before I was able to move toward her.” His voice shook as he continued, but no one interrupted. “I slipped when I reached her…slipped in Rose’s blood…and landed on my hands and knees…staring directly into her sightless eyes. I knew that she was dead as soon as I saw those eyes, but still I couldn’t move or look away. I just knelt there remembering all the times she had looked at me with love in her eyes…and now she never would again.” He swallowed thickly and struggled to go on. Still no one spoke.
“Eventually I was able to get up and I stood there wondering what I should do. There was a voice inside shouting at me to get out now and run home to get my dad and he would know what to do. And another voice was insistently asking about Henry… Henry who loved me like his own grandson and was proud of me. I couldn’t leave without knowing if he was okay or not, so I staggered out of the kitchen. What I found in the dining room was just plain gruesome. Most of the dinner party guests were still there…all dead…some in their chairs and some on the floor…blood everywhere…bodies lying at unnatural angles…limbs ripped off…eyes wide and staring in shock and horror…throats torn out. I guess I was in shock at this point because my thoughts were a bit loopy as I wondered what kind of animal could do something like this. It had to be an animal, right? No human could possibly do this. The smell was the worst though – strong and pungent, making me want to vomit. I couldn’t though…not yet, because I didn’t see Henry and I had to know if he was okay before I did anything else. So, I swallowed heavily and kept walking. I reached the hallway and that’s when I heard voices. They were coming from the parlour where those men had been examining the contents of the trunk earlier. I started to hurry forward at the noise, until I heard a woman’s voice laughing. It was a cruel, mocking laugh and it froze me in my tracks. I slowly crept forward till I could peer around the corner into the parlour. The rest of the dinner guests were in a bloody pile of gore near the fireplace. There was a blond woman stoking the fire. She was the one laughing. There was a tall broad shouldered man with his back to me and he was shaking someone, but I couldn’t tell whom it was from where I stood. He threw that person down to the floor and I could see that it was Henry.” A pause followed a deep breath before William could continue. Willow was sniffling and everyone else there looked affected by what they were hearing. Tears were running down her cheeks by this time, and Buffy felt like she couldn’t breathe. Angel had the strangest expression on his face…one of dark recognition. And she had a sick suspicion that she knew what was coming next and felt like she would give her soul not to hear the rest of this.
“The man was yelling at him demanding to know who else had been told about the contents of the trunk. Henry denied that anyone else knew other than those who had been at dinner that night. The man swore at him and turned to the blond demanding a poker. Henry looked up then and saw me. His eyes were wide and he mouthed at me to “go now” before the man looked back down at him again. The dark haired man took the poker the blond handed him and hauled Henry up by his shirt. He stuck the poker directly in his face searing the skin above his eye demanding again to know who else had been told about the trunk. I could smell his skin burning. It was horrible. But Henry was tough for an old man. He screamed at him “get out of my house” and I knew he meant those words for me, so I started backing away, retracing my steps. I made it back outside, but I didn’t leave right away. I couldn’t. I crept to the front window and peered in. What I saw would haunt me for years to come. The blond woman was using a torch to light the pile of bodies on fire. The contents of the trunk were already blazing. The brunette man was holding Henry close to him almost in an embrace. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but then the woman turned to him and said something. He looked up and I saw…everything…his fangs slipping out of two bloody dripping holes in Henry’s neck…Henry’s lifeless body slipping from his arms to join the others on the floor…”
“Time stopped for a moment and I swear my heart stopped beating as the man turned and looked right at the window and I just knew that he saw me. I could see him clearly and I would never forget his face…bumpy, misshapen…mouth twisted in a cruel smile… blood running down his chin. I broke out of my stupor and twisted around, falling over myself to get off the porch… running, panting, crying…breath coming in gasps…fearful that they were following me…ears full of the sounds of my own heart pounding and the fire crackling in the distance. I tripped several times, but made it home without incident. I ran through the front door and my mother screamed when she saw me – still covered in Rose’s blood, sweaty, eyes wide and bulging, mouth open in a silent scream, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t speak – all I could do was point back the way I had come. My father came running at my mother’s scream, took one look at me, grabbed his rifle and headed out the door. I stood there and stared after him, ignoring my mother’s questions and attempts to get me away from the door. I guess I was totally in shock by this time. I don’t really remember what happened very clearly after my dad left. I remember being convinced that I’d never see him again…that the thing that got Henry would get him, too. I guess my mother got me out of those clothes and bathed somehow, because the next thing I knew I was sitting up in my bed in my night clothes and she was trying to get me to drink some tea. Eventually I fell asleep, but woke up immediately when I heard my dad’s voice. By the time he and a few other neighbors made it to Henry and Rose’s place, there wasn’t much they could do. The fire had spread and all they could do at that point was try to contain it. Nothing much was left by the time they got it put out successfully…just a smoldering pile of timbers and bones. My dad wanted to know what had happened. I told him what I had seen – all of it, every single detail and he didn’t say a word till I got to the part about the man with the fangs and the bumpy face. He didn’t know what to think about that. He knew I was a truthful child, if a bit willful, but he was having a hard time grasping what I was telling him I’d seen. He asked me about it in detail several times before deciding that I must have already been in shock by then. He was convinced that I either saw a madman killer or a wild animal, but was certain that the type of creature I described did not exist on God’s earth.” A soft mocking snort from Xander caught William’s attention and he wondered at that momentarily before continuing with his tale.
“The authorities agreed with my father’s theory, and word quickly spread to our other country neighbors. Suddenly the summer homes were emptied out as families everywhere – mine included – hurried back to London to avoid being similarly attacked. My father sold our cottage and we never again returned to that area, although I visited nightly in my dreams. I had nightmares for years about those events and would wake up screaming bloody terror. I became deathly afraid of the dark and refused to set foot outdoors when night fell. My parents despaired of my turmoil ending and even took me to our priest in hopes of helping me to recover from this trauma. I told the priest everything and he spoke of demons from hell appearing before men to torment their souls. I was more frightened by his talk even than my own memories. I feared that I was going insane and there was no hope for me. So, I began to tell myself that I had imagined the whole thing in the hope that I would one day believe this and find some semblance of peace again. I eventually suppressed my memories of that night, and my terror gradually lessened. I was able to go outside in the evening and my parents thought everything was fine again. It was when my father passed away and I became the man of the house at the age of fourteen that I stopped thinking of that night altogether. Occasionally I would still have nightmares, but I rarely recalled what they were of when I awakened. My mother was sickly and I had a much younger sister to care for, so I had not time for childhood memories or fears. When my sister also passed away, it was just mother and myself, and I have cared for her daily until I woke up this morning and found myself here…in a nightmare world where monsters are real. Where the monster that killed my friends and terrorized my childhood is real and standing in front of me. Where I am also a monster.” And with that, William wept brokenly. And Angel realized that he had never felt more like a monster himself than in that very moment.
TBC
Kindred Series
Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK TWO
THE PAST REVISITED
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
Chapter Four
A Haunted Past
Angel started to slowly reach out, but William flinched back immediately, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably and his jaw working. He still wasn’t saying anything…just staring bug-eyed at Angel like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but that it was clearly the most horrible sight he could have imagined. That wasn’t too far off track, as would soon become clear to everyone in the room. Buffy was struggling to hold Dawn back from rushing to William’s side. She didn’t know what was going on here or what had happened to cause it, but William was obviously very freaked out over something. The tension was so thick between him and Angel that everyone could feel it. She started to ask what was going on, but Giles caught her eye and shook his head. He motioned for everyone to remain still while Angel resolved the situation. He didn’t know what had happened either, but he felt that Angel had a better chance of understanding and resolving it, or of overpowering William if that became necessary, than anyone else right now. William was obviously on edge and could lose control at any moment. The best bet for all of them to avert a dangerous situation was to remain calm and let one person handle it. Although he really didn’t understand what could have possibly set William off like this, he didn’t doubt for a moment that he was right to keep the others from interfering. Fortunately, Buffy for once had decided to defer to his judgment and was keeping a tight grip on Dawn quietly reassuring her that Angel would figure this out and fix it. She certainly hoped he would anyway, and quick!
Meanwhile, Angel had lowered his arms to his side and was doing his best to relax his posture in an effort to help calm William down. He’d never seen his grandchilde like this before and he was more concerned than he let on. He opened his mouth to speak, when William suddenly launched himself away from the bar and ran pell-mell for the French doors. Fearing that they would lose him again, Angel quickly followed with the others not far behind. He needn’t have worried though. William had darted outside but didn’t run off. Instead, he immediately dropped to his knees in the grass outside and began retching loudly. Angel simply stared at him in shock for several moments, not knowing how to react to this turn of events at all. What in the world had happened to have this effect on William? He started to turn around and admit to the others that he was at a complete loss as to what was going on when he caught a glimpse of the expression on Dawn’s face. She was staring at William with a pained expression and had tears running down her face. After Buffy, William was clearly the most important person in the world to Dawn and his pain was her own. No matter what happened, he had to try to figure this out for Dawn’s sake. Taking an unnecessary breath, Angel turned back around and started toward William again. By this time, William had stopped throwing up. He was sitting up clutching his knees protectively against his chest and rocking back and forth. He was muttering a desperate litany of “no, no, not possible, no, no” over and over again. William’s eyes were still glazed over, but as Angel knelt down by him, he spoke. And what he said was the last thing that Angel ever would have expected to hear.
“It was you. I always thought it was my imagination, but it wasn’t. It was you. You killed them. I saw you. Oh, God. It was you. It was real. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.” His words were lucid by this time, but the emotions that were coursing through his voice, the tremors racking his body, and the way his eyes still wouldn’t focus on anyone clearly told that he was in shock. Angel didn’t have any idea what William was referring to by this point, so he simply sat down a respectful distance away and asked him what he was talking about. William didn’t answer at first. He just sat there rocking with his arms wrapped around his knees and his eyes still darting around wildly. Buffy was so distracted by the distraught picture William presented that she failed to notice when Dawn wiggled away from her grasp. Suddenly Dawn was kneeling next to William, wrapping her arms around him tightly and hugging him fiercely. She murmured to him in a soothing tone. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell us. You’re with friends now and you don’t have to be scared.” She continued to repeat phrases like that to him as she rocked with him, tears now running down both of their faces. No one else interfered, sensing that Dawn just might get through to him.
After what seemed like an eternity, William’s shoulders finally stopped quaking and he let go of his knees to wrap his arms loosely around Dawn and return her hug. He even managed a shaky smile for her benefit. “Thanks, pidge. I needed that.” His voice was very quiet and a bit shaky still, but at least he could sit upright now. Dawn smiled back in relief and released him from the bear hug, but didn’t move away. She settled down next to him and held his hand tightly for support. William looked down at this simple gesture of support and his heart swelled with love and gratitude for this caring young woman next to him. He knew he needed to explain to them why he had reacted so just now, but he took a moment to silently promise that whatever happened next, he would do everything in his power to protect this slip of a girl who had claimed his heart and his affection tonight. He squeezed her hand back and glanced over at the others before settling on a point of reflected moonlight on the open French doors to focus on. He knew this would be hard to say and he didn’t think he could manage if he had to look directly at any of them… particularly HIM. He swallowed hard several times before finally starting to speak slowly, sharing a story that no one alive or dead had ever heard before that moment.
“When I was growing up, before my father passed away, we used to summer in the country. Mum and dad had a small estate where we would vacation…nothing fancy. Times spent there were quiet, filled with fishing and picnicking and lazy days. To me though, they were the best of times because that was when I got to visit with Henry and Rose.” A wistful smile crossed his face as he talked of happy childhood times. “Henry and Rose were the closest to grandparents that I ever knew. Mine had passed away when I was still very young. As they had no children of their own, Henry and Rose kind of adopted me. I would go over to their house most days and help Rose with her baking or Henry with his woodcraft. Some times they would take me with them on long horseback rides in the country. And on rare occasions Henry would take me up to his attic where he kept all the old family artifacts and tell me stories about those items. He had relatives who had traveled far and wide and there were lots of interesting stories to hear, especially for a young boy who had never been anywhere before. I had tons of questions for him about absolutely everything, and there wasn’t anything that Henry wouldn’t talk to me about…except for one old trunk that held a number of journals. He absolutely refused to discuss them. I still remember the pained expression on his face the day I found that trunk and opened it. He shut it back and told me that some things were better left unopened, and that it simply wasn’t proper subject matter for a young boy to delve into anyway. I was only 7 at the time, and that explanation only served to fuel my curiosity, as there had never been a subject that Henry had shut me out on before that day. I didn’t say anything then, but I wondered greatly about it over the next few years. When I was 10, I brought it up again one day when we were alone. I could tell that Henry didn’t want to discuss it and he hesitated so long in answering me that I regretted asking. I was just about to apologize and retract my question, when he finally started to speak.” William’s voice drifted off and he was silent for a moment remembering that day like it had just passed. He took a deep breath, shook off his momentary stupor and started again.
“It turns out that one of Henry’s distant relatives had been involved in some kind of organization called the Watchers Council and the journals had belonged to him.” He missed the surprised expression on Giles’ face at this statement as he recounted his story. “Henry had never actually read them himself. He told me that this relative had died a very painful and gruesome death. The journals supposedly held dark and evil secrets or so the family legend went. They had been passed down over the years, but to the best of his knowledge, no one had ever had the nerve or the desire to actually see what was in them. I, of course, immediately wanted to read them all right then and there to see what they had to say. I started making all kinds of wild suppositions about their contents until Henry finally laughed and admitted that he’d always been a tad bit curious himself. He agreed that I could help him go through the journals on the condition that he take the first look alone, in the event that they contained material that was not suitable to someone of my youth. I didn’t particularly want to hear that, but he wouldn’t brook on that subject, so I agreed to wait. He picked up the first journal and took it downstairs when Rose called up that dinner was ready. Henry and Rose were headed to the city for a ball that weekend and wouldn’t be returning until the following week. He told me he would read the first journal on his trip and we would tackle the rest together when he returned. He also made me promise not to sneak into the house while he was gone and start reading the others in his absence.” A wry smile crossed William’s face at the memory of that loving, knowing admonishment.
“I was never sure exactly what happened in London or what Henry learned from that first journal. All I know is that he and Rose were gone for several days longer than originally anticipated. And there I was – waiting – just itching to get my hands on those journals and read them for myself. So, I went to their house every day, some times several times a day, looking for their return. I was quite impatient by the time they finally did come back…but it was with quite an entourage in tow. That really surprised me, because Henry and Rose had very little company when they stayed in the country. That was their private time and they both valued it greatly, so to see a house full of folk was quite astonishing… But not half as much as when Henry saw me standing on the porch and came to get me to meet the folks at his house. He introduced me around to all these fine society gentlemen as the “one responsible for this find” and “the only reason it ever came to light.” I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on at first. I was finally able to deduce that Henry had apparently found something worthwhile in that journal and that he had shared this with the others. They, in turn, had come out to the country to see the whole trove for themselves and inspect the findings. From what I gathered, they were members of this Watchers group. They hauled that trunk down out of the attic while I was there and fussed and fretted over the contents. They were worse than a bunch of kids on Christmas morn. You should have seen them calling out excitedly about this “set of works” or that “scroll” or the “journal of so and so” that they had just unearthed. Apparently, underneath that top layer of journals, there was a whole mess of valuable old documents and writings that had been missing for years. The men all fussed over me and thanked me for my contribution and what all, and Rose clucked over me proudly like some mother hen.”
“I was a little stunned by this turn of events and a bit disappointed too, to tell the truth. I had been looking forward to exploring the trunk with Henry, just the two of us poring over those journals for hours at a time. I guess my feelings showed a bit, because Henry took me aside and apologized to me that we wouldn’t be able to go through the books and stuff together, but thanked me for getting him to start reading the journals. He told me that if I hadn’t pushed him, a great historical find might have remained lost for centuries to come. While that was all good and fine, I was still dissatisfied. I guess my expression gave that away, because Henry told me that if I wanted to come back later that night after dinner…he’d explain it all to me as best he could and let me look over any of the documents I wanted to see. Apparently the men were taking the trunk and everything in it back to London the next day, so I’d have to grab my only opportunity to go through its contents that night if I wanted to see any of it. I eagerly promised to return after dinner as soon as I could sneak out from under my mother’s watchful eye. I’ll never forget how Henry stood on the porch watching me and that just before I left, he stooped to hug me and told me that he was very proud of me… couldn’t be more proud than if I was his own grandson. My face was flushed with love for this man as I ran home to dinner. Like most people of that day, my family didn’t show much open affection. So, to hear these words from Henry meant everything to me.” William’s face openly reflected the pleasure of this memory and he felt suffused with the feelings that were surfacing as all this came back after being suppressed for so long. His smile faded as he recalled what happened next though. It was several moments before he could speak again to tell the rest of his tale. The others were silent…waiting for him to continue…seeing the emotional struggle to retain control as he talked, but totally caught up in his tale. Dawn squeezed his hand gently again and William found the strength to continue.
“I waited until my folks thought my sister and I were asleep and then I shimmied down the roof and jumped into a nearby tree to get down. I had snuck out on the roof many times before to watch the stars or just to think, but I usually didn’t wander around too much at night. There were rumours of wild beasts that lived in the nearby woods and I had no desire to ever meet anything like that. I remember that the night was deathly still as I made my way to Henry and Rose’s house. I was so excited that I was almost there before I realized that I couldn’t hear any of the normal summer sounds – no crickets, no frogs, no breeze even – and I started to get a bit nervous. It just wasn’t natural…this extreme quiet. I usually came to Henry and Rose’s by the back way, which brought me to the kitchen entrance. The door was ajar when I got there which was highly unusual. I was a bit unnerved by that on top of unnatural silence, so I quietly let myself in. I turned around and immediately I saw Rose. She was just lying there in a heap on the floor in this big puddle of blood. I just stood there for a minute totally frozen by the sight before I was able to move toward her.” His voice shook as he continued, but no one interrupted. “I slipped when I reached her…slipped in Rose’s blood…and landed on my hands and knees…staring directly into her sightless eyes. I knew that she was dead as soon as I saw those eyes, but still I couldn’t move or look away. I just knelt there remembering all the times she had looked at me with love in her eyes…and now she never would again.” He swallowed thickly and struggled to go on. Still no one spoke.
“Eventually I was able to get up and I stood there wondering what I should do. There was a voice inside shouting at me to get out now and run home to get my dad and he would know what to do. And another voice was insistently asking about Henry… Henry who loved me like his own grandson and was proud of me. I couldn’t leave without knowing if he was okay or not, so I staggered out of the kitchen. What I found in the dining room was just plain gruesome. Most of the dinner party guests were still there…all dead…some in their chairs and some on the floor…blood everywhere…bodies lying at unnatural angles…limbs ripped off…eyes wide and staring in shock and horror…throats torn out. I guess I was in shock at this point because my thoughts were a bit loopy as I wondered what kind of animal could do something like this. It had to be an animal, right? No human could possibly do this. The smell was the worst though – strong and pungent, making me want to vomit. I couldn’t though…not yet, because I didn’t see Henry and I had to know if he was okay before I did anything else. So, I swallowed heavily and kept walking. I reached the hallway and that’s when I heard voices. They were coming from the parlour where those men had been examining the contents of the trunk earlier. I started to hurry forward at the noise, until I heard a woman’s voice laughing. It was a cruel, mocking laugh and it froze me in my tracks. I slowly crept forward till I could peer around the corner into the parlour. The rest of the dinner guests were in a bloody pile of gore near the fireplace. There was a blond woman stoking the fire. She was the one laughing. There was a tall broad shouldered man with his back to me and he was shaking someone, but I couldn’t tell whom it was from where I stood. He threw that person down to the floor and I could see that it was Henry.” A pause followed a deep breath before William could continue. Willow was sniffling and everyone else there looked affected by what they were hearing. Tears were running down her cheeks by this time, and Buffy felt like she couldn’t breathe. Angel had the strangest expression on his face…one of dark recognition. And she had a sick suspicion that she knew what was coming next and felt like she would give her soul not to hear the rest of this.
“The man was yelling at him demanding to know who else had been told about the contents of the trunk. Henry denied that anyone else knew other than those who had been at dinner that night. The man swore at him and turned to the blond demanding a poker. Henry looked up then and saw me. His eyes were wide and he mouthed at me to “go now” before the man looked back down at him again. The dark haired man took the poker the blond handed him and hauled Henry up by his shirt. He stuck the poker directly in his face searing the skin above his eye demanding again to know who else had been told about the trunk. I could smell his skin burning. It was horrible. But Henry was tough for an old man. He screamed at him “get out of my house” and I knew he meant those words for me, so I started backing away, retracing my steps. I made it back outside, but I didn’t leave right away. I couldn’t. I crept to the front window and peered in. What I saw would haunt me for years to come. The blond woman was using a torch to light the pile of bodies on fire. The contents of the trunk were already blazing. The brunette man was holding Henry close to him almost in an embrace. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but then the woman turned to him and said something. He looked up and I saw…everything…his fangs slipping out of two bloody dripping holes in Henry’s neck…Henry’s lifeless body slipping from his arms to join the others on the floor…”
“Time stopped for a moment and I swear my heart stopped beating as the man turned and looked right at the window and I just knew that he saw me. I could see him clearly and I would never forget his face…bumpy, misshapen…mouth twisted in a cruel smile… blood running down his chin. I broke out of my stupor and twisted around, falling over myself to get off the porch… running, panting, crying…breath coming in gasps…fearful that they were following me…ears full of the sounds of my own heart pounding and the fire crackling in the distance. I tripped several times, but made it home without incident. I ran through the front door and my mother screamed when she saw me – still covered in Rose’s blood, sweaty, eyes wide and bulging, mouth open in a silent scream, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t speak – all I could do was point back the way I had come. My father came running at my mother’s scream, took one look at me, grabbed his rifle and headed out the door. I stood there and stared after him, ignoring my mother’s questions and attempts to get me away from the door. I guess I was totally in shock by this time. I don’t really remember what happened very clearly after my dad left. I remember being convinced that I’d never see him again…that the thing that got Henry would get him, too. I guess my mother got me out of those clothes and bathed somehow, because the next thing I knew I was sitting up in my bed in my night clothes and she was trying to get me to drink some tea. Eventually I fell asleep, but woke up immediately when I heard my dad’s voice. By the time he and a few other neighbors made it to Henry and Rose’s place, there wasn’t much they could do. The fire had spread and all they could do at that point was try to contain it. Nothing much was left by the time they got it put out successfully…just a smoldering pile of timbers and bones. My dad wanted to know what had happened. I told him what I had seen – all of it, every single detail and he didn’t say a word till I got to the part about the man with the fangs and the bumpy face. He didn’t know what to think about that. He knew I was a truthful child, if a bit willful, but he was having a hard time grasping what I was telling him I’d seen. He asked me about it in detail several times before deciding that I must have already been in shock by then. He was convinced that I either saw a madman killer or a wild animal, but was certain that the type of creature I described did not exist on God’s earth.” A soft mocking snort from Xander caught William’s attention and he wondered at that momentarily before continuing with his tale.
“The authorities agreed with my father’s theory, and word quickly spread to our other country neighbors. Suddenly the summer homes were emptied out as families everywhere – mine included – hurried back to London to avoid being similarly attacked. My father sold our cottage and we never again returned to that area, although I visited nightly in my dreams. I had nightmares for years about those events and would wake up screaming bloody terror. I became deathly afraid of the dark and refused to set foot outdoors when night fell. My parents despaired of my turmoil ending and even took me to our priest in hopes of helping me to recover from this trauma. I told the priest everything and he spoke of demons from hell appearing before men to torment their souls. I was more frightened by his talk even than my own memories. I feared that I was going insane and there was no hope for me. So, I began to tell myself that I had imagined the whole thing in the hope that I would one day believe this and find some semblance of peace again. I eventually suppressed my memories of that night, and my terror gradually lessened. I was able to go outside in the evening and my parents thought everything was fine again. It was when my father passed away and I became the man of the house at the age of fourteen that I stopped thinking of that night altogether. Occasionally I would still have nightmares, but I rarely recalled what they were of when I awakened. My mother was sickly and I had a much younger sister to care for, so I had not time for childhood memories or fears. When my sister also passed away, it was just mother and myself, and I have cared for her daily until I woke up this morning and found myself here…in a nightmare world where monsters are real. Where the monster that killed my friends and terrorized my childhood is real and standing in front of me. Where I am also a monster.” And with that, William wept brokenly. And Angel realized that he had never felt more like a monster himself than in that very moment.
TBC
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