Chapter 35: Scarborough Castle #1
Chapter 35: Scarborough Castle #1
Disclaimer: Xander, Buffy, and anyone or anything else that pertains to BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon. Dracula belongs to the estate of Bram Stoker, or Francis Ford Coppola, or someone I think.
Larry Talbot, the Frankenstein Monster, and some others may belong to Universal Pictures.
NCIS belongs to Belisarius Productions, and CBS.
Ghost rider belongs to Marvel Comics, Dimension Films, Crystal Sky Entertainment, Columbia Pictures, and Sony (Whew!), and was played to perfection by Nicholas Cage!
OCs belong to me, and as always I remain…the man behind the curtain.
(Upon)A hill, in the deep forest green,
tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown
blankets and bedclothes, the child of the mountain
sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves
washes the grave with silvery tears
a soldier cleans and polishes a gun
sleeps unaware of the clarion call
War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions
generals order their soldiers to kill
and to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Song Lyrics: Canticle from the Song Scarborough Fair Artists: Simon and Garfunckel
Chapter 35: Scarborough Castle #1
The five vampires were teleported to the center of the castle and immediately assumed mist form. Drifting as a mist may seem like a slow way to travel, but anyone who believes that has never seen a vampire mist move. The five rapidly moved to their goals.
Once Mina arrived at the main double doors that led to the castle proper she found that it was guarded only by two humans armed with submachine guns, and a pair of rather worse for wear zombies. Snapping the spines of the zombies was easy for her. To the naked eye she was a female of just a bit more than five feet in height, weighing about 90 pounds fully dressed, but her supernatural strength was truly awe inspiring. She backhanded the first guard into a wall. He struck with a wet sounding splat and slid to the floor with a long smear of blood. The second guard almost got off a shot…almost. She sank her teeth into the base of his throat, and he was lost in a reverie that ended in his death. She immediately broke his neck so that he would never rise as a vampire. She broke the seal holding the doors closed with an enspelled anthame given her by Willow. This negated any magical alarm that had been set. Larry Talbot now a great gray wolf, followed by the huge shadowy black form of Jamila’s saber-tooth entered first, next in line came the gigantic Victor Mann. The man-made titan wore a matt black outfit that appeared to one modified from that of a London S.W.A.T. team member. He wore no helmet and did not carry any firearms however, instead clutched in his left hand was a huge spike headed iron mace, and in his right was a three foot long silver plated machete. The last figure through the door was the living mummy known as Kharis. If the first three beings to enter inspired abject fear, the last one should have inspire sheer unadulterated terror. Long gone was the little old man that reminder Xander of George Burns. In his place was the mummified priest’s true form. Wrapped in moldering bandages, the rage filled glowing eyes of the corpse burned a hellish yellow green. He moved with a deceptive shambling grace. The figure appeared to be wrapped in constantly moving shadows. One of the shadows detached itself from its master and entered the body of the guard that Mina had thrown against the wall. There was a wet sucking sound and the body rose as a lesser mummy under the command of Kharis. This one was soon followed by the corpse of the second guard his head hanging at an odd angle, but moving still. These shadows were evermore replaced by more of the shadowy undead ghosts of ancient Egypt. The Nighthunter party, led by Mina who at the moment looked every inch the Queen of the Undead moved with purpose into the main body of the castle. Violent death now stalked the quiet castle halls, as the denizens of this place would soon learn.
Marie found a bit more opposition at the sea-gate entrance, but fortunately it was already open. A motorized Chinese junk stood at the ready to remove the august person of Fu Manchu. It seems that the ever valiant master of the castle had finally seen the writing on the wall when he had lost contact with the last of his backup bases, and decided to get out while the getting was good…a decision made too late.
The Witch Queen-Vampire Lady of New Orleans quickly drained the ship’s captain complaining jovially as she did that Chinese always left her hungry later. So she happily had the Bosun’s mate for dessert.
The main Nighthunter attack team entered in force. Ziva, Wesley, and Fred armed with EM-2 British Bullpup MK1 assault rifles, and Gibbs with his Ak-47 lay down a withering covering fire. Xander, Buffy, and Connor, all by passing the use of firearms attacked with swords, and axes.
The Junk was soon on fire and the sailors either dead or on the run. Fred, Wesley, and Jethro broke off from the rest in pursuit of their bomb laying mission. Buffy joined by Vlad in the hallway headed toward the area designated as the most likely place to find her target. Xander met up with Drusilla, who gave her ‘brother’ a quick hug before they continued on.
Connor and Ziva found their objective first. The old bokar surrounded by the rotten fruit of his handy work had set up shop in the old dungeons near the sea-gate. Ziva switched from submachine gun to a beautiful silver plated ivory handled scimitar that Mina had given her. Connor used the same old tried and true battle axe he had inherited from his dad. Both also were armed with a belt that held rice paper bags of rock salt…zombie buster hand grenades so-to-speak. Connor had lost the veneer of the cultured young man that he wore under normal circumstances, and Ziva had become the cold-blooded assassin that she was trained to be. The young couple moved as one, a well oiled killing machine.
The bokar finally had to resort to the last trick in his book! He surrounded himself with the last of his undead minions. Creatures thought to be impossible…zombie werewolves. Old Papa Shengo WAS the King of his craft after all was said and done. The undead beast-men were immune to the salt bombs, immune to Connor’s trusty axe, but not to Ziva’s scimitar! She wove a net of silver plated Damascus steel between them and the monsters. She opened a momentary hole between them and the old man. Momentary yes, just long enough for her lover to leap through. His axe forgotten the Destroyer grabbed the bokar and with a twist of his bare hands tore the monster-makers head from his body and crushed it beneath his heel!
The effect was instantaneous. All over the castle zombies fell as if they were marionettes whose strings had been cut.
The lightning of an oncoming storm at sea flashed in the sky over the castles parapets where the Ghost Rider’s fiery form was in full combat mode. His devastating chain cut a wide swath through the castles minions as they tried to reach the Witches Three. Now and again one or the other of those minions would be caught in the hellish grip of the Rider’s Soul Stare and would die screaming, and clawing at his burning eyes. For their part the three witches cast a myriad of defensive spells for their forces, and offensive spells against their enemies. Willow’s expression was one of concentration, for she was directing the spells. Abby’s face held excitement, and at times horror at what her voudon spells had wrought. Dawn’s face was suffused in glee, joy in the fact that her study, and attention to Willow’s and Giles lessons were actually paying off!
From where they stood wrapped in concentration, IF that is, they could have taken the time to look down on the castle’s main courtyard. They would have seen another part of the mission playing out. There in the courtyard Xander and Drusilla faced off against Angelus, and a small pack of lesser vampires.
Xander had named his beloved axe ‘Sunnydale’s Revenge’ it now flashed a brilliant blue-white in the magic and lightning laden air as it decapitated bloodsucker after bloodsucker. Drusilla for her part was definitely not acting the lady she had tried to become since her marriage to Ian!
Viciously stabbing with a short sword made of blessed white oak with her left hand, and slashing mightily with an old British artillery saber held in her right hand she soon had helped her brother pare down the enemy forces to one…that one being this world’s Angelus. Dropping his weapon in apparent surrender the master vampire fell to his knees. There was none of the Angel that even Xander had come to respect's courage in the accursed Angelus of this world! With a mocking smile on his face Xander deliberately made to turn his back on his cowering nemesis. Angelus chose that moment to be uncommonly stupid! Swiftly he rose to attack the one eyed warrior from behind. The look on his face was one of complete, horrified surprise as Drusilla’s wooden short sword was thrust into his cold dead heart, and Xander’s axe glided through the flesh and bone of his unprotected throat! The two century plus old master vampire, erstwhile leader of the vaunted, fearsome Scourge of Europe, dissolved ignominiously into a pile of ash and moldering bone fragments. Only the almost mummified skull remained intact. Drusilla picked up this loathsome, desiccated skin covered object and with a look of distaste smashed it against a wall.
"Not my Daddy," she cursed! Angelus was finally dead.
Xander gently took her arm and they walked away without looking back just as the rain started to fall.
INSIDE THE CASTLE-DARLA’S BOUDUIOR:
The ornate door to the luxurious chamber slowly creaked open. Dr. Hall entered as if he had been invited. The blonde vampire lay naked on the blood stained satin sheets of the four poster bed with the cold, and lifeless blood-drained corpse of her most recent unlamented lover, a young Chinese girl who had been in her mid-teens at best. Outside the lightning flashed.
At length she finally saw Ian standing just inside the room, and she rose languidly. She could sense only the presence of a living human. The former prostitute stretched seductively, a welcoming smile crossing her reddened lips and beckoned to the handsome blonde man to her with a crook of her manicured finger. She began broadcasting her vampiric beguilement to him, and he slowly stalked closer to her, a small bemused smile on his face.
His hands were kept hidden in the voluminous pockets of his Victorian style great coat. Ah, but his manner of dress should have told her that this was not an ordinary human, but this Darla had never actually been the brightest bulb in the box.
Just as he reached her he said, “Allow me to introduce myself my dear…I am known in some circles as Jack…Red Jack.” His innocent smile slowly became the hellish rictus grin of The Ripper. The light from the room’s candles flashed ominously off his pince-nez glasses momentarily hiding his eyes, but this was soon replaced by a pale blood red mist forming before those pale blue eyes.
He slowly drew his hands from his pockets, and she saw her doom far too late to stop him. The silvered-steel scalpel, and the time worn, but ever sharp lancet flashed only once before startled her eyes, before those eyes saw no more.
Author’s Note: That is as far as I go can with Darla’s Doom, and still keep my lunch down. I leave the rest of that scene to your ever vivid imagination. If your imagination isn’t that vivid, or maybe that morbid I suggest that you read any actual account of the murders of Jack the Ripper particularly the last one…Mary Kelly.
Next Time: Buffy and Fu Manchu! So Same Vampire Bat Time…etc (Sorry about that). Nostalgic ArjaiH (RJH)