Layla the Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction

*Do not read beyond **this point** if you want to avoid being **spoiled!***

These fanfics were transcribed directly from the Roll4It subreddit.

(Arranged alphabetically)

As the sun sets, class is over, and St Tom Huels is closed, for the most part. Those who are boarding have filtered home, and even those who had detention are long gone.

Barnaby sits in the art room, drawing - more scribbling, than anything else. It's messy, and chaotic, but there's something in his head he has to work through. Something he has to get out.

"I like that colour," She says. "I normally draw in red, but the contrast in nice."

She's been common place for a while now. Every now and then she'd show up, talk to him. Mostly it was about his art, sometimes about his friends. When it was, it was mostly about Layla. But today, she brought up what he knew she would. What he smelled off her from the moment he walked into the art room. Every skipped class, every missed counciling session, she was there. And she was leading up to this.

"What did James look like?"

Barnaby paused, not looking up from his drawing. It had been weeks since the wake.

And he couldn't remember.

"You know the only thing keeping you from him." She said. Barnaby looked up at the red haired, art student. He somehow knew her, but couldn't remember more than the briefest mention of her. Like so many other students these days, she was a blur of faces, apologising, offering condolences, half heartedly asking if he was okay. They eventually passed. The rugby lads were the first, but ever Robert had stopped mentioning him. They had all moved on. She - it - never went away.

Barnaby paused. It was an answer to a question - a question he had been asking himself since James had died - an answer he had known almost as soon as it happened. His paintbrush lying by the side of easel, he finally works up the courage to reply.

"It's not what he would have wanted." He finally manages to spit out.

"Pity." She says, and turns to leave. "See you tomorrow Barnaby." She hesitates in the doorway.

"Does it really matter?"

"Does what really matter?"

"What he would have wanted, I mean," She says, after some hesitation. She was trying to phrase things - everyone was trying to phrase things these days. I'm sorry about your friend. They knew. They all knew, everyone knew. But no one wanted to say it. And that was the biggest loss he felt. Not that James was gone.

But that no one, not even him, had respected what they had together.

"He's already gone. Anything you do now, is for just another moment with him." And for the first time, Rose displayed any sort of emotion. A grin, a grin with too many teeth and a yawning darkness behind them, spread across her face. "You've done that before, haven't you Barnabacus?

**Imogen and Violet**

Lying in an unfamiliar bed, Imogen stares up at the ceiling. Layla, as usual, isn't here. Probably in hospital, visiting the husks. She'd stopped asking if she'd wanted to come. At first she was concerned - she was so interested in seeing them before, Layla had said. Imogen tried to feign distress, but it got the better of her for a while. She just didn't care. They were gone. More than that, all they had done was worth nothing, apart from Robert's crush, who had turned out to be nothing more than a tease to toy with her friend's heart.

And she was done with caring.

So once again, Imogen laid alone. Her books spread open on the floor, searching for something. Anything. She knew after James had died her mind had dulled, but not in a way she was expecting. Not a breaking, but a severing. To something. She couldn't tell what, but she knew something was missing. It was more curiosity at this point - at first, she had an inkling of what was missing, but then it was just research into the well of magic inside herself she had tapped into. The truth was there was little to nothing in her books, not even in her black book. Myths and fables, with little information to be gleaned. She knew what she had to do, but knowing that had consequences, so she tried not to think of it. She had already threatened that if she meddled again she would...

As if the bell had chimed on her research, there was a knock on the door. Imogen didn't need her sight to know what was beyond it.

"What?" She shouted at Violet, who stood on the other side of the door. "Oh Imogen," She said, in that filthy way Violet said when she was interested in something, like the hell mouth shuddered everytime she stuck her forked tongue into Imogen's head. "You know what. You've been waiting for me to turn up ever since your dull friend died."

For a moment, Imogen felt a flash of anger that was unlike anything she had felt in weeks. But it was gone almost instantly. Maybe it wasn't anger, anger at her disrespect of a fallen friend. Maybe it was just indignation. That she couldn't figure out what she needed on her own and needed this... lesser creature.

She sighed, and unlatched the door. One, two, three, four, click, open. Layla had gotten paranoid. Why, Imogen couldn't imagine. Death was coming for anyone attached to her, and Imogen was the most attached. It only took one vampire with an assault rifle to almost kill two of her best friends. If it hadn't been for her, it would have been two. A single bolt action rifle, plenty of which existed in the area, would be enough to take out her. Locks wouldn't change anything.

She hadn't brought this up.

"Well, come in then!" Imogen said, waving Violet into the room. "I see Layla isn't..." "DON'T" Imogen said. "Don't you dare. Call us what you like but we are NOT friends. You do not get to gossip around me."

Imogen sighed.

"Listen," She said. "You're here because you're interested because I basically became a god, or, whatever, briefly, and could have caused the end of the world, and caused one of the greatest acts of vengeance you've ever seen?" Imogen paused, and Violet's face grew into a wide, toothy grin. "And I'm letting you in cause I can't god damn figure out what happened, and you know, and you're going to tell me unless you want me to do it to you"

Violet's smile shortened slightly. She was afraid of Imogen, surely. But she hadn't seen power like this since she first signed her contract, of course she was afraid. But it was raw, and beautiful, and... vengeful, but not in a way that she knew. It was a human vengeance. She had been considering Robert's words and by all the Gods was he right. Human vengeance was passionate, wrathful, and by far, much more satisfying, because more often than not, it destroyed not one life, but two.

And if Robert was right, then Imogen was the harbinger of human Vengeance.

"Do you know where Magic comes from, Imogen?" She said. "Well... no," She said exasperatedly. "The books all point to different sources. Some say the Earth, some say higher beings, some say demons, from people, sometimes from other people" Imogen shot her a glare as a tinkle appeared in Violet's eyes. "Magic comes from physics, darling." She says. "And not just because of your impossible physique" "Oh my god you're so annoying." "Without a catalyst, it's useless, but with one, like yourself, you can do amazing things with the basic forces of the universe to do amazing things." "But what I did was different." Imogen says, increasingly more annoyed. "I mightn't know where it comes from but I know what it does. What I did isn't that." "No," Violet says, her grin extending again, to a near horrifying extent. For a moment, Imogen glimpsed Violet as she was, decaying and morbid, desiring nothing more than her death. "What you did was use the world around you as a catalyst. Instead of drawing on the world for your magic, you used everything else for it. That's why your poor human bones broke and your skin fell off and all those silly parts of yourself began to break away. Because you were pushing everything there was and ever would be through yourself and focusing it to your will. And. *it. was. Beautiful*."

**Layla**

With the whirlwind of the last week over with, Layla was glad to be back doing what was simple. No James. No Imogen, or Barnaby, or Rob. She went for a run, she told them. It wasn't uncommon - she'd been doing it since she came to school. Of course, she meant running into vampires, but they didn't need to know. After Miller, the local clans - groups - gangs? Whatever they call themselves, were in chaos, and there was plenty to wail on.

After about the fourth or fifth, her knuckles started to hurt, and more importantly, her clothes were starting to show signs of wear and tear. A bruise here and there, but nothing unusual. It'd heal by the morning. She giggled, almost silently, imagining Imogen's disappointment after the first time she had tried to give her a hickey. It hadn't lasted more than 10 minutes, no matter how hard she tried.

She started walking home, in the early november misty rain that England seemed to be plagued with. For a little while, she remembered she was an outsider here - not as the Slayer, she almost had to remind herself that - but as an American. Gone was snow, and sun, and storms. There was mostly just rain. A hundred different types, from pouring down to almost sideways, but mostly just in the air, ruining your makeup, your hair, and your... Imogen's, notes.

They'd started classes again. It was... strange. Sitting next to Imogen in biology class, Rob in computer science. The world seemed so much different now. She felt guilty about it, but James' death had reminded her she had friends. Like everyone else there were real people in her life, who cared about her. People who might get hurt.

She could get hurt. She didn't want to admit it, and never brought it up to the others. But almost every Slayer that ever was, had died through... non-natural means. Miller's book was clear on that. A Watcher didn't look after a Slayer, like she'd been taught. A Watcher was there to teach a Slayer from the previous Slayer's mistakes. What got the last one. An evolving list of ways to die, and how to avoid them.

The boarding house was close now, but it was past curfew. There were exams in the morning, and for a moment, Layla thought about going in through the front, but didn't want to risk another detention. She snuck around the back, and climbed up the drain pipe. Their old room had been mostly repaired on the outside, but still required a lot of work, so for now they were still two doors down.

Just one knock. Two knocks meant danger, three meant get everyone and meet out front. She rapped on the window, and surprisingly, Imogen was not only awake but... dressed?

The scene inside was candle lit, and Imogen was...

Radiant. Dressed exactly as they had been at the night club, down to a T. Her makeup was... her dress... she was...

"Get in here you dork before you catch a cold," Imogen said, pulling her inside. "Can Slayer's catch colds? Is that a thing?"

There was a plaid blanket on the floor, and... a picnic basket? Beside it laid two bottles of wine - one red, one white - and a smaller bottle of whiskey. Inside the basket was mostly junk food - along with a few sandwiches, strawberries, chocolate, and what appeared to be cheese. The room smelled of incense, but not one of Imogen's spell ones. It was... lavender?

"What... where did you get all of this?" Layla asked, a wide smile breaking out on her face.

"Well Barnaby helped with the more expensive things..." Imogen trailed off towards the end.

"And the booze?" Layla said, a wry smile breaking out on her face. Imogen just waved her fingers in front of her.

"You must know by now I've got sticky fingers," She giggled.

"You've got to stop doing that," Layla replied. "What if you get caught?"

"It's not like I just take it," She said. "I leave the money for it, I just don't necessarily bring it up to the counter"

Layla sighed, exasperated, tired, but more than anything else, content and sat down next to Imogen as she poured out two glasses of white wine, a large bag of crisps. To her surprise it was something other than salt and vinegar - which was the only form of crisp Layla hated, and Imogen loved.

"So how was your run?" Imogen asked, sipping on her wine. In the low light, she looked stunning. Layla was amazed that the girl she had known only a few months ago, who didn't know the difference between foundation and concealer, was this well done up. Had Violet helped her? No, Violet knew less about makeup than she did being human. Maybe Janet?

"It was... bracing," She said, taking off her jacket and putting an arm around Imogen. "I don't know how you deal with the weather here. It's like there's no seasons here, it's just always raining." She took her first sip of the wine Imogen poured it. It was sharp, acidic, but had a slightly fruity note. It wasn't whiskey, because she didn't want to be rude. Imogen had probably picked these out for a reason? Rob had the internet, maybe they were supposed to pair with the crisps?

"You'll get used to it. England is like it's people, damp and unchanging." She snorted, laughing, and Layla broke into a grin. Imogen hated how she did that, but to her, it was the cutest thing in the world.

The moment was beautiful, and seemed to last forever, until it was shattered by an almost imperceptible quiet - ribbit.

"Wait..." Layla said. "If that is John..."

"Then he's seen us do..." Imogen followed.

"Does Barnaby still have that memory spell?"

And long pause followed.

"Well if he does," Imogen said, snaking her hands around Layla's shoulders, and pulling her in close. "Then we have nothing to worry about."

#### Other

**Rob's Workshop**

The tired, haggard, aging face of Rob, looks down at a blueprint. His life's work - or more accurately, the work of one afternoon, twenty years ago.

It was November 7th, 1997. Imogen and Layla were off 'hunting', or so they told him and Barnaby. It was good for them anyway. Imogen seemed less volatile than usual, and they were spending time together, which meant less possible time for Imogen to spend with Barnaby. Plus, Layla needed something to keep her mind off killing vampires and actually living her life.

Meanwhile, he was in the workshop again. Less complicated teenage things, although just as fiddly. He needed a break for the important stuff – the more he thought about what he was doing,m the more his head hurt with possibilities. He’d be excited, if he wasn’t terrified of what Barnaby’s reaction would be – and what James would say. Pouring over designs for his railgun, he almost didn't notice the door open, and her walk in.

Janet was standing there in the doorway. She looked like she’d had one too many cups of coffee – a slight twitching in her eye, and a manic smile on her face. She noticed Robert immediately, and ran over, drawing papers in hand. Ignoring his work entirely, she slammed down the papers and began unfurling them.

“What the...” He said “I was working on that!”

“Rob you’re going want to see this,” She said. Her hair brushed his shoulder as she turned, grabbed a chair, and sat down beside them. She impatiently gestured to the design now on the table. “Well, look!”

On the table was some sort of... energy device. Rob’s brain went into overdrive once he recognised it, scrutinising every measurement, every piece of back of the envelope maths. “I’m so close Rob, I just can’t figure out the magnetic shielding on the reactors core.”

“You... you’ve bloody built a fusion reactor!” He said. Part of him almost felt a little jealous – he’d always wanted to do that. “How did you...”

“Listen it sounds stupid and before you say it I don’t want to talk to your friends about it.” She said. “But I kinda had a dream and well... this.” She gestured again to the papers. “But it’s not right, it’s not efficient enough. If I can just eek out a little more shielding, it’ll be able to run to produce net energy. “ She paused for a bit. “But I need your help” She said, almost wincing.

“My help?” He said. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“It’s not you I have a problem with Robert, just the things you and your friends get up to.” She sighed. “I actually liked hanging out with you, though you always seemed more interested in talking about them. It’s dangerous Robert. They’re dangerous.”

Rob mulled this over. She was right obviously, but they were his friends. They stood by him. But they also almost got him killed – almost got Janet killed.

“Right, well.” He said. “I’m not going stop hanging out with them. But this is... well it’s freaking awesome,” He said, laughing a bit. Janet’s face grew into a big smile, and she laughed, as well.

“Shall we?” She said.

The next few hours were a combination of frantic scribbling, arguments, and pacing. Equations danced in front of Rob’s eyes, searching for the missing variable. Despite that, Rob was distracted. Janet was... Janet, and it was hard for him not to marvel at how intelligent she was, how much of an equal – or better, she was. She was someone on his level, unlike the rest of them. Not more or less than him in anyway.

Finally, the chalk fell. Rob looked at the equations on the board, as did Janet. They stood there for a moment, stunned.

“We... we did it.” Rob said. “We bloody did it.”

Janet grabbed Robert and hugged him. She held him there for what seemed like an eternity, and Rob, somewhat awkwardly hugged her back. Finally letting him go, she stepped back, and looked him square in the eyes, a gleeful grin plastered ear to ear across her face.

“Thank you Rob,” She said.

And then she kissed him.

Grabbing his hands, pulling him slowly in she brought her lips to his and kissed him, her hands leaving his and hugging his body to hers. Rob had no idea how to kiss, and from the looks of it, neither did Janet, but it felt great anyway so he put the thought out of his mind. He could remember every detail of those last few seconds with Janet.

“You’re... you’re welcome.” He said.

Janet left the school a few days later. She and her parents moved to Australia – or tried to. They went down in a plane crash somewhere in the Indian Ocean. And she had taken her designs with her.

He sat there, staring at the design. That one missing variable. He couldn’t remember it. All he could remember is the first girl he’d ever kissed, and how he never got to do it again.

**To be a demon**

CW: Suicidal Thoughts

"Huh," Barnaby said to himself, before knocking again. Still no answer. That was weird. Violet was always in her room - or at least, when he knocked she had never not answered.

Thinking about why he was there was harder than just saying it. It was hard to describe how he felt besides that he needed to talk. And he couldn't talk to the group anymore. Like before they found out. Not with Robert's dad.

The fear was one thing - the guy had almost killed him. But now, he had to hide again, from himself.

"Dammit Violet," Barnaby muttered under his breath. She'd understand. She had to, right? All that time pretending not to be a demon. It was different but, she'd get it. Somebody had to get it. James would have got it.

Violet sat watching the swans. It was cold, bitterly, and that was just another reminder of her newly acquired mortality. The pond had chunks of ice floating in it, glistening in the late november sun. Being mortal was much more difficult than being a demon. Demon's didn't need food. Demon's didn't have to work a part time job to stay in school. A demon wouldn't have to give up all the books and reagents she'd pawned just so she didn't go hungry.

They kept talking to her like she was some thing. An it, not a she, like she was some monster they'd take down if she stepped out of line. But they were the one's who made her like this. They could have killed her. Maybe they should have killed her.

Everyone she knew, her colleagues, her mentors, were gone. Replaced with a bunch of horny teenagers, and a Slayer who threatened to kill her every time she didn't understand personal boundaries.

She wondered for a moment how Barnaby did it. Gave up everything to pretend to be normal. Live this awkward, uncomfortable life with a bunch of impulsive, two-faced kids. In a world where he had so much power, he gave it up to be powerless.

The psychic link to the rune in room told her he was outside. He probably wanted someone. Human or demon, they only came to her when they wanted something. For once, she decided that the brief company wasn't worth it. She rummaged in her bag, tore up some bread, and tossed it into the pond for the swans. It had cost her a magical artifact just to eat this month. At least this way she got some attention out of it.

### Ecliptixis

**Random Shadowrun Fanfic?**

Contrary to popular belief, secret Aztechnology data vaults don’t always look like Mesoamerican stepped pyramids in the matrix. This one, however, did, hidden deep enough within the corporation’s internal network to not bother with any disguises. And of course it came with a swarm of giant winged snakes orbiting it at all times, carefully looking for any intruders with red glowing eyes. In its eternal search, one of them almost ran straight into a plain red humanoid figure. The snake and the figure hesitated, for just a second, then they each continued on their ways. The red shape disappeared through the entrance of the pyramid.

“Too close”, he thought to himself as he watched the snake continue its patrol from behind the stone gate. Once again he berated himself for taking on this job in the first place. Running against Aztechnology was always risky, and this place seemed to be especially important to them if they put up this amount of ICE to protect it. Unfortunately, he still had to pay his rent somehow, and contracts hadn’t exactly been lining up after that disaster in Liverpool last month. With a heavy sigh, he started to move down the dark corridor in front of him. Within a few minutes, he reached the heart of the data vault, an enormous cavern filled with… bookshelves, of all things. And dozens of winged snakes circling just underneath the ceiling. No accessible search function. At least the books were sorted alphabetically. He quickly moved through the library towards his goal, only half noting all the intriguing but ultimately meaningless project codenames. Guardian, Gyrospec, Helstar, Huntress… he froze. He had seen that identifier a hundred times, in dozens of intercepted Aztech messages. None had contained the information he needed. But this was their main secret project archive. Could it be...

For a few seconds, he considered just moving on. Finish the job, get payed, live on for another month. Then he remembered that night so many years ago when they took her away. He remembered how they all were powerless to stop them. How he was powerless to stop them. He remembered the look of surprise on his best friend’s face when that sniper’s bullet hit him. He knew he had to do this. Holding his breath, he reached for the book, acutely aware of the tiny black chain connecting it to the shelve. He tried to be careful, but it broke as soon as he picked up the book. Immediately, one of the snakes flying above turned toward him and hissed a query. He knew his faked credentials were not good enough for this. No time to copy any data, he’d have to rely on his memory. He started flipping through the book a quickly as possible. Most of it was pages and pages of internal memos full of indeterminable Aztechnology jargon. “Test series 507B unsuccessful. Moving on to 507C…”. The snake began moving towards him, rapidly accelerating. “Subject tried to break containment again, request additional security personnel…”. It opened its mouth, revealing an array of very impressive looking fangs. “Request for terminating subject denied. The potential benefits justify further investments…”. The snake slammed into him, knocking him over. Giant jaws began to close around him, and he knew his time was up. Again. As he felt his consciousness get violently torn out of his virtual body, he desperately flipped one last page… and there it was. Just a sequence of numbers. Coordinates. A location. Finally.

He awoke with a gasp. For a second, he could still feel the snake’s teeth dig into his body, then the sensation was replaced by the all too familiar dull headache of dump shock. For a few seconds, he lay there on his bed, his now turned off and slightly smoldering cyber deck next to him, and just stared at the wall of his tiny apartment, panting heavily. Then, he shakily got up. Wiping away the blood dripping from his nose with one hand, the scrawny middle-aged man stumbled toward his meticulously tidy desk. Almost without conscious thought, he grabbed one of his burner comlinks from a drawer, turned it on and entered a number. She picked up almost immediately, as always. “Rob, is that you?”, she asked with her familiar resolute voice. “Of course it is, no one else has this number. You do remember I told you not to contact me for a while after that debacle? I thought we were in agreement that going dark was a good idea for now. Do you even…” As always, he waited patiently for her to finish. She didn’t like being interrupted. “Imogen, I found her.”, he finally said, quietly. “I found Layla.”

### OberonNaga

#### Not So Light Reading

**Not so light reading, Pt. 1**

Dark, Mature, Slightly OOC, you have been warned

Alexa was growing weary. Dead Drox demons were slowly dissolving around her as she made her way through the jungle. She was desperate to reconnect with her husband. He had successfully led half the group away, but she worried that his bullheadedness would get him hurt. A rustling in the brush brought her thoughts back to her current surroundings. Her hands were a blur as she spoke her next spell. Her body and mind were exhausted by the amount of magic she was forced to bring to bear, but she was still able to conjure as muscle memory and keep her full attention on her surroundings.

The Drox that charged her out of the brush was met by a spear of ice into the center of his face. The ice spread so quickly around the demon that by the time he reached Alexa, he was completely frozen and crashed to steaming pieces at her feet. He had been a lesser Drox, too young for his magic resistance to keep him alive. Alexa didn't drop her guard and was quick enough to dodge the pincer attack from a second Drox. Her new opponent was in her guard, too close to conjure a proper spell, so Alexa focused her mind and tossed the Drox five meters back, into a tree.

Alexa's hands stopped mid-cast as she noticed the young Drox. He was very young, little more than a decade at her estimation. She was struck by how young this demon was and why it's elders seemed fit to bring the child with them. She went to continue her casting on the now shaking young demon when a deep voice spoke behind her. "Bak'tarby, you must follow through on your hunts."

Alexa spun around to face the massive elder Drox behind her, ice spear poised. The Drox leader ducked the spear and grabbed both of her hands in his massive paw before crushing them. Alexa couldn't keep the scream from her lips as he hands were crushed and burned in a single action. The elder Drox demon threw her into a nearby tree. Alexa curled herself into a ball as she desperately tried to regain her breath. She was more terrified then she ever had been before. She felt the pull of magic within her, the dark voice that she had been trained to avoid at all cost. She grasped it with both metaphorical hands as she tried to sit up.

She felt the pure, dark magic envelop her as tendrils of darkness strike out at the elder Drox. Bak'traby fled as Alexa scored a deep wound over the face of the elder Drox. He roared in fury as he charged through the tangible darkness straight for her. The last image that appeared in Alexa's mind was of her son smiling as the couple left for their mission.

The tome of Alexa Dipper Davidson closed with a soft snap. It took Rob a few minutes of shaking, clutching the book to his chest, before he took a deep, shaky breath and placed the tome back into its proper place. He ran a finger over the spine. "I love you Mum." He moved back from the shelf and stepped out toward the more open area between the rows upon rows of shelves, stepping through the growing pool of in leaking from the spider with a perfectly circular hole in its skull that had stopped smoking a long time ago.

Robert could feel the ink sinking into his shoes and hear the low whine that indicated that the next bolt was ready in his railgun, but they were dull, sitting in the back of his mind for quick reference when needed. He stopped and looked straight ahead before drawing his thumb across his neck slowly in a throat-slitting pantomime.

A part of his mind marveled at how apt the gesture was for a signal as he was pulled from the Extradimensional Library and stumbled back onto his bed. Violet was perched cross-legged on the top of his desk with a small smile on her face as she traced her long fingers on the border of the portal. "Did you find anything interesting, Robert?" She closed the book with a snap.

Robert turned away from the girl, staring at the sealing as the word 'Bak'tarby' kept swinging around in his mind. He slammed his hands onto either side of the bed and yelled in frustration. He saw Violet cock her head to the side slightly with a quizzical look on her face. He ignored her as his mind reminded him that the sparking, activated form of his railgun watch shouldn't be near his flammable bedsheets. He sat up swiftly and moved to disengage the railgun when he heard a banging from the wall connecting to the opposite room and Barnaby's voice calling out. "Rob, is everything alright?"

Robert had used some of his time at home to move his dorm room next to Barnaby's for easy access while he was still living in the dorms. Rob had thought that the closeness would be a boon for them escaping for patrol. His brain was running through all his thoughts on the subject in the background as his body was standing and pointing the railgun at the wall. He was actively computing the approximate location of Barnaby's head through the almost useless thin wall of the dormitories.

Violet stood off to the side of Rob, clearly in his vision but not actively in the line of the railgun. Her head was cocked to the side and a slight smile was on her face as she gave Barnaby an answer in a very breathy and sensual voice. "Ah! Barnaby, you know as well as I that Robert doesn't like being spied on. So, mhm, don't be too nosy." The banging stopped immediately and after a moment the was a slight crash as Barnaby's door opened and he could be heard moving away, Rob's arm tracking him through the wall the whole way. After a moment, Violet moved closer and place a hand lightly on Robert's extended elbow. "You're very tense, Robert."

His mind was still processing the past few moments, so he didn't think before he replied. "Yes, I am, and no I don't want to talk about it."

Violet smiled as she easily deactivating his railgun, much to his chagrin. "Well, you might want to think about talking about it, because you almost shot Barnaby."

Rob looked at her sharply dropping his arm away from her grip. "Why do you care?"

Violet actually looked hurt at his words for a moment before putting her mask back on. "You are the one who chastised me about my lack of empathy and caring. I'm trying Robert, at least give me that."

Robert sighed, but quickly sucked in a sharp breath and turned slightly red. "Oh bloody hell. Barnaby thinks we were…"

He couldn't finish his sentence as Violet simply looked up at him through her lashes at him. It would have looked bashful if not for the wicked smirk splitting her face. "Well, I had to get rid of him somehow. He is probably getting Layla and thinks I have ensorcelled you with my wicked ways or something." Robert felt his face heat up. "What are you going to do when they come in here?"

Robert covered his face with his hand. "I will calmly explain that you were just kidding, and we were discussing something."

Violet went so far as to do the air quotation marks as she said. "Discussing? Yes, Robert because it's not like that is a code I've heard before or anything. That was around when I was a human before, which was a little while ago." Robert groaned and was about to give another suggestion, but Violet cut him off. "Also, you are a terrible liar and all of us know it, Robert. You are also stiffer than one of those pencils you somehow take demon's heads of with." Robert groaned again, sitting back on his bed and putting his head in his hands. Violet walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on Robert, you're a man of science and thinking. You really need to relieve some stress, or the others are going to figure out that something is wrong with you."

Violet had agreed to help him go into the book behind his friends backs and now she was stopping him from doing something 'interesting. Despite all she had done to help him recently, he couldn't trust Violet not to have ulterior motives. He felt his body tense even further as he started running through what he had almost done. He had almost shot Barnaby for no reason. His mother's last moments flashed in front of his mind again and he groaned, covering his face with his hands. He felt Violet's hand on his shoulder, patting it awkwardly. She was clearly trying to do something to help him, but the phrases she used brought up the last conversation they had late at night in his dorm room. He turned red as various dreams he read about in his tome now joined the swirling thoughts consuming his head. Violet was right. If his friends saw him right now they would know something had gone horribly wrong. He had to stop thinking about everything and calm down. He looked at Violet who was smiling slightly at his obvious internal conflict. He wanted to drop her mask to see what her motives were, so he said the most outlandish thing he could think of. "Violet, would you like to shag."

She looked very, very confused. "Actually, I thought you were going to talk about… You know what? Yes, yes I would." She pushed him back onto his bed. Rob was still processing that this wasn't her goal in the first place when she mounted him and started to kiss him. His mind was clear enough for a moment to realize that he certainly wouldn't have to deal with Layla and the others if they walked in now. He knew he could stop this if he spoke up, but he decided to go along with his own outlandish idea.

When he woke up, his mind wasn't racing a mile a minute. He was sore, but in a strangely pleasant way. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows. He followed the beckoning whistle to find Violet sitting on his desk with her legs folded wearing nothing but his jacket and her underwear. "You certainly seem calmer now. As entertaining as last night was, I believe you do owe me some answers Robert?" Robert turned red as the memories of the previous evening came flooding back. He grabbed onto the verbal lifeline to save himself from passing out in embarrassment and focused on a single spot on his ceiling. "I just found out that my parents used to slay demons…"

### PaladinHulk

**PaladinHulk's Dark Layla/Imogen fanfic**

this is dark, reader beware

Interior, boys locker room. Bloody splotches, dents in lockers and broken bloody benches are seen throughout. A trail of bloody water and steam comes from the spraying showers where a bloody body can be seen on the floor. Imogen is standing in the middle of the room, covered in blood, eyes black. Magic crackles around her.

Layla steps forward, dry tears on her face.

“Imogen! What did you do??” Layla demands with fear.

“I told you not to lie to me, Layla. I told you not to laugh at me behind my back.” Imogen doesn't look at Layla. Her tone steady. Cold.

“I didn't lie! I wasn't... it wasn't real, Imogen! It was a fucking spell...” Layla sinks to her knees, eyes alternating from the body to Imogen. “It was a fucking spell...”

Imogen turns towards Layla. “I saw you two. I saw you in OUR room.” the cold mask breaks briefly, but Imogen recovers. “I told you not to lie. This is all your doing.”

“It was the new guy, Imogen. He brought a magic...THING...from...” Layla gets back to her feet. Layla's voice turns cold too. “You know what, it doesn't matter. You murdered Lance, Imogen. You killed him in cold blood. He was a completly normal, innocent boy. And you killed him.” Layla takes out a stake from her belt and gets into a fighting stance. “There's no coming back from this.”

Imogen's cold mask slips for a moment. “It...magic? You didn't cheat on me?” Hope begins to fill her trembling voice.

“I would have never cheated on you, you idiot! I loved you! But look at what you fucking did!” Layla angrily points to Lance's dead body. “You're a monster!”

Imogen's black eyes turn to the body, then her bloody hands. Tears streak down her face. “I'm a monster...” She looks back to Layla, resignation fills her voice. “And you're the Slayer.”

**PaladinHulk's heavenly fanfic**

This fanfic is not dark at all, reader feel free to continue

You know the best part about breaking out of heaven? Noone ever does it.

He had moved, slowly but surely, in the direction of the Gates. There were guards, ofcourse. But they were all outside the gates. Keeping the “undesirable” people out. People like his Barnaby, maybe.

It's hard to feel a sense of urgency in a place where time does not exist. But James had tried to stay focussed. Tried to fill himself with the need to act. When he'd talked to Barnaby, he'd been so sure that they would eventually live happily ever after. Together in Heaven. It was easy to feel like that here. Worrying about the future was almost literally impossible. But Barnaby's uncertainty about being allowed into Heaven had left James feeling uncertain for the first time since he'd gotten there.

There was a crowd of people standing near the Gates. Waiting to welcome in their loved ones. James wondered how long some of them had been waiting there. Lost in the certainty that eventually, their loved ones would walk through those gates. In a place without time, you could wait forever.

“It all depends on his choices in life.” It seemed such an obvious answer. But when he was told that there was even a chance his Barnaby might not make it into Heaven, something inside him woke up. That feeling of bliss, of faith that it would all somehow work out was cracked. He could feel it even now, telling him there was no point in hurrying. That he didn't need to act. But there was a need. If he was going to be with him in the afterlife, he would need to make sure Barnaby made the right choices in life. Didn't fall victim to the darker impulses of his demon nature.

James made his way through the crowd, the light of Heaven at his back. People were surprised, maybe even shocked at the sense of urgency he was exuding. The people coming in through the Gates didn't even notice him, too busy searching for the people that had made the journey before them. The guards only took note of him when he had already moved past them. None of them moved from their position, seemingly unsure of what to do. One shouted after him: “Hey you, where do you think you're going??”

James turned around with a determined look on his face and said:

“To get my happy ending.”

**PaladinHulk's Guidance (Dadbert Fanfic)**

“I had a talk with our boy today,” he said, wiping some dirt of the stone.

“He's...well, he seems happy. He's got friends. Interesting bunch, seem like pretty loyal friends.”

“He's been getting hurt though. Been in the hospital. I..I didn't even know. I've been away. Working... Still didn't help me keep the job.” He sighs. “Or make enough money...”

He sits down, leaning his back against the gravestone.

“It's been really hard taking care of our family without you,” he says, staring into the sky.

“I wish you were here. I wish you could hold me, and tell me what to do,” he sighs. “You always knew what to do.”

He wipes a tear out of his eye. “Robert knows, honey. He knows about the vampires and the demons. All those late nights I spent here with you, trying to think of the right way to tell him someday. Kid figures it out on his own.” He smiles, “Too smart for his own good, our boy. You should see the things he's tinkering with. It would blow your mind, you'd be so impressed!”

He looks back at the stone, reaches out and touches it gently. “He gets his smarts from his mom, ofcourse.”

“Roberts friend. Layla. She's... she's the Slayer. Fuck, it's such a mess,” he swears. “Apparently she's taking Robert with her when she goes to fight monsters. That's how he's been getting hurt. Our little boy. Fighting. Can't throw a ball to save his life. Always picked last. And she has him fighting demons twice his size.”

He gets up stand to face the stone. “What am I supposed to do?? Robert finally has a solid group of friends. Finally he has people that care about him. That see what a great kid he is. And they're gonna get him fucking killed. Same as I lost you...”

He sinks to his knees. “I can't lose him. I can't. He's much too young for this stuff. He's not ready.” He adjusts and sits more comfortably. “I don't think I can stop him, though. I think that time is passed. If only I had actually been around. Been a better dad. Could've stopped all of this.”

“What are we going to do? Loving you, having him, it's the best part of my life. Robert isn't even dating yet. Let alone finding love.”

He gets up, dusts himself off. “I don't want our son to die. Ever.” he says with determination. "But I especially don't want him to go without having known love. The way I love you.” He takes a single flower out of his bag, places it by the stone. Then starts to head back to his car.

“I wish you were here.”

**PaladinHulk's "Christmas with friends" a Violet fanfic**

She stood in the window of the boys dormitory, watching her friends drive away from the school. Without her. Violet thought things had been going better, lately. That she was starting to be accepted as part of the group.

“I guess fucking not.” she said with some venom.

She hopped off the windowsill and walked back to the girls dormitory. As she walked by the room where James had been shot, she paused.

“I bet if James were still alive, he would have been invited to christmas.” she said bitterly.

Freaking James. He had the brains of a large dog! No real talents to speak of. A musclehead! He was basically just a pretty face. And they would have still chosen him over her. Just because he and Barnaby were bonking. Like that was so important. She'd tried to hook up with Robert, that could have been her way inside the group. They would have taken her everwhere! But he'd turned her down. HE had turned HER down! Every movie and TV show she'd seen since she was forced to live in this almost literal hellhole told her that shouldn't have happened. She was hot damnit! She had that hygiene stuff down now as well, so she was pretty sure it wasn't because she smelled bad.

Violet entered Imogen and Layla's room using the duplicate key she made a while back. Purposefully ignoring the actual key they had given her. She thought at the time that they were going to ask her to come along to christmas with them. But they didn't. “Can you please take care of John the Frog?” Imogen had asked. Violet had been crushed. She looked at John in his little glass cage and contemplated smearing him all over their cozy little room. That would show them.

She opened the terrarium and fed John an insect. He seemed to enjoy it. Violet had turned plenty of men into frogs during her time as a demon, but she didn't actually know much about them. She grabbed one of the books on frogs that Imogen kept near. Damn Imogen! She could still hear her, on the phone with her mother: “Barnaby has to come too, mum. I don't think he has ANY family!”, Imogen had said.

“Well, boohoo. Poor Barnaby, he has it so hard.” Violet snarked.

That boy had TONS of people that wanted to hang out with him. Even total strangers noticed him, she'd seen it happen! Meanwhile, Violet didn't have anyone. No family, no real friends. Noone. All she had was this stupid frog. And he wasn't even hers. She picked up his cage and took it with her.

Violet got back to her room. Her solitary room. Noone had ever even asked if maybe she wanted a roommate. A roommate was like a built-in friend! They HAD to spend time with you! But ofcourse Violet didn't get one. Everyone got one. Except her.

She set John's terrarium down, opened it up and took out the frog. She laid down on her bed and held the frog in her hands. She just stared at him for awhile until slowly, she gave him a gentle hug.

“Maybe you can be my friend?”

### sonder\_wintermute

**Splash Damage**

The pain was like nothing id ever experienced before. A white-hot exploding star and it was spreading up from my crotch, consuming everything as it hit my head. It robbed me of all my senses and thought.. and as the blackness closed in, quietly at first but growing louder was that voice again.. “Remember…. Remember”.. and so I did.

I remembered the day before my 18th birthday and the day of my death. I remembered the cold of the autumnal air and the increasing warmth of the bare frozen earth beneath me as my blood was drained from me. I remember the terror and mental fog as the teeth sunk into me. I remembered the soft caress of the falling leaves on my face as the darkness closed in.

I remember the day after, the day of my ‘rebirth, I remember the panic and confusion of ‘awaking’ underground, of the euphoria and the gentle salty breeze of the morning seaside wind as I was breaking out of my grave. I remember the grit between my fingers of the sandy and damp soil and most of all I remember the piercing cackle of my sire who thought it all a big joke.

I remember the growing maddening thirst; I remember the thrill of my first hunt. The taste of fear and of Iron in the back of my throat as I completed my first kill. I remember the soft feel of his silk shirt and the stench of his drunken breath. I remember the joy “and the loathing” the voice whispers.... I didn’t remember that then but now. ….. I’m weak and confused.

I remember all 150 years of hunting “and being alone” it hisses .. oh stalking the night “and fearing the subtle hues of each sunset” it cries. I remember each and every kill and each night waking refreshed and ready for blood. I remember the strength and feeling of power..” and the loss of companionship and laughter” the voice mocks.

I remember meeting the “gang” and Mr Millar for the first time. I remember the smell of bike oil and the creak of biker leather, the glint of chrome and the thought of business as usual I thought, here’s to another 150 years of death murder and mayhem and blood. “oh how wrong you now know” the voice says

I remember the assignment. Go to the club and watch them, her specifically. Gather intel and stay clear he said. I watched them all but I studied her. The shy laugh and the awkward dance. The subtle smile and the steel in the eyes. I don’t remember thinking these at the time, I just saw another victim, another silly little girl that would soon be dead… “and now” it asks. I don’t know……

And I remember when everything changed. I remember the blinding light that seemed to engulf Miller, I remember something being instantly different and I guess that’s where I picked up you “… ……..” the voice is silent but I know its still there. I remember the sudden pain and heat from that nerd's firebomb. And the flight from the warehouse. I couldn’t tell you why then but I can guess now why I picked that old lady’s house to feed “murder” it hisses... and recover, why I was hiding from my own kind and why after that last one I resisted the urge to feed. .. I can remember the smell of the dust from the old books that I started to read but I couldn’t tell you why I did.. I can remember the confusion and doubts as new thoughts and emotions started to surface after being dormant and suppressed for soo long... I can remember the warmth of tears of grief and self-pity. The sound of the splintering wood as I destroyed the house in rage.. and the stirrings from the music that I listen to for the first time in a century and a half. And all the time that voice is there, tell me things.. Whispering, seducing, scolding and accusing. Pushing and pulling me.

I can remember the resolution and steel that caused me to leave my nest of pity and rage to find her.. to demand that she undid whatever she did.. I remember the crunch of the leaves and the soft landing behind me…

As the stake point reappeared from my chest I remember thinking ‘maybe it’s for the best’..

“Layla.. did anything strike you as odd about that last one?” the demon inquires.. “no, why” she replied.. “ oh they just seemed distracted and sort of weak”……”meh.. another one dusted.. come on let’s find more, I got some aggression to work out” she says as she stalks off into the night

**Greenlights looped**

Arggg.. whats happening, where am I? Why can't I see properly like my visions all strange?? Did I hit my head again?....

My gut says that I am being looked after and but I don’t remember how or why or even where I got to?. Must have taken another hit on the head by an oar.. yes that must be it, why I'm confused and my visions all weird. Stupid Ned must have hit me again too with the oar.

What do I remember last? That’s weird. The last thing I remember is her.. her urggghh her again, why she always in my way. I mean I cant let anyone know, no they must never know just how jealous I am of her.. I mean she gets to spend all that time with him.. ..Riii

Oh what was that.. whats that moving, can't see properly but I say something.. is that a … no..cant be..

.....

What? What was I thinking again? Oh yeah her, she was the last thing I remember. Being all weird again, muttering them funny words under her breath.. she doesnt even know she doing it.... .. I don’t know why he spends so much time with her.. I mean he's soo dreamy and shes.. well not.. urgg.. Must not let anyone know though.. wouldn’t be accepted, they would all make fun.. I mean it's not like Ned or Brian or James would ever understand.. Riiii

......

Lost my train of thought again. where was I again? Yeah what happened? What do I remember.. .. yeah so I wanted him to notice me.. so I throw her stuff in the river.. ha that will teach her and he might then pay attention to me.. yeah make her look stupid and he can be my friend and spend time with me.. alone like he does with her.. then maybe.. maybe.. Muttering them strange words. and that bright green light... rii..

...

There it is again.. it moved.. is that a cricket? But its so big… that doesn’t…

.....

Hmm.. cant seemed to keep my head straight.. must have been that blow to the head.. yeah that’s right.. concentrate.. him. Concentrate on him.. he just soo dreaming I mean.. he's funny and smart and well he just so swell.. I mean if it wasn’t for her id.. well…. It would never work.. but oh if it could.. riii

......

There, it moved again.. what.. why. why did my tongue do that.. how did it do….

.....

Hmm.. get it together.. concentrate on him…

....

Concentrate on Robert..

....

Robert…

...

Ribert..

...

Riibert..

...

Ribbirt

...

Ribbit..

...

Ribbit

....

Arggg.. whats happening, where am I? Why can't I see properly like my visions all strange?? Did I hit my head again?....

**The Last Time**

This is the ‘last time’ Kate told herself for the third time. Looking around again at the dirty and smoky office and the pitiful excuse for a PI slumped behind the tatty desk, clearly eyeing her up, she believed it this time.

“So let me get this straight” he muttered from nicotine stained lips.. “you want me to find this missing brother of yours”, wiping ash from the file she had carefully placed on his untidy desk just moments before. “Yes, my brother Edward Miller” Kate sighed. This was what? The 10th? No 12th time she had had this conversation.. 30th if you counted those with the police..

“And you say you already reported it to the police?” as he flicked through the files, skimming the now-closed police report, she had paid a ridiculous amount of money in bribes to get. “Yes its all in the files, The police report, the pictures. Witness statements. Everything” Kate exclaimed.

With the fee already agreed and wanting to get away from those pudgy slightly glazed eyes that seemed to be lingering on her too long and not on the details of the file, Kate completed the deal, left her details just in case he surprised her and actually reported back news rather than requests for yet more funds, and quickly left the office. Stepping out into in the street and the harsh bright lights of the neon sign of the pawn shop opposite. She pulled her coat collar a little higher to keep out the rain.

She had zero hope left and even less money and truth be told she had thought this a waste of money from the very start, but her Mother had insisted.. Made such a scene at the home when she argued back at the waste of money that she just resigned herself again to fulfilling the batty old dears wishes.. Never close with ‘Dotty’, her brother Eddie had always been Mothers favourite.

At first, she’d been annoyed when the Nursing home had called her to tell her that Eddie hadn’t paid that months bills and that he had missed the daily visits to her.. Then the police had come to visit. And informed her that there had been an ‘incident’ at that school he worked at.. that they didn’t have any more details other than Eddie was missing and that there had been ‘suspicious’ circumstances around his disappearance.

Of course, she had to be the one to break it to dear dotty.. Never close and always the 2nd favourite, this event seemed to finally confirm everything that Dotty always suspected. That Kate was no good and somehow was responsible for her “precious” son Edwards’s disappearance. As if all that wasn’t bad enough.. and she was actually worried about her brother. Not that they could ever have said to be close, all thanks to her mothers clear favourite. But little Jack and Fiona loved their Uncle Edward and the funny tales he would tell them.. so she was relieved as well as annoyed when he turned up outta the blue that night on her doorstep. Acting all strange and somewhat creepy. That’s what stopped her in her tracks in the doorway and from greeting him properly and inviting him in straight away.. The way that he seemed to hold himself, that look in his eye. Kate was left even more confused when the random police car driving by caused Eddie to quickly mumble something about catching her later for a bite to eat and disappeared back into the night.

Kate, of course, had gone back to the police to report this and then again a week or two later when Eddie still hadn’t gone back to visit dotty.. Again at Dottie's insistence to report that he was still missing as he hadn’t visited her. Hell for all Kate knew dear old Eddie had finally had enough of playing the good son and had run off with some student or something.. Jack had spun some line about kids at his school bullying him that his uncle Edward had been caught “bonking” some student in a graveyard.. maybe he had had a breakdown or something and run off..

But Dotty had been insistent. And Kate at first had reasoned that it was just easier to go along.. and later wishing he’d turn up again so that he could deal with the old bat. Now months later, she was just resigned to having to deal with these bizarre requests. Dealing with increasingly seedier and less reputable Private eyes as the funds and money ran out. Oh, of course, she’d believed the sales pitch of the first couple, after all, they were expensive, had good reputations and seemed to get quick results. But as each one either came back with no news or mysteriously disappeared on her, she had stopped going to the expensive ones and started just rationing out what was left of Dottie's money to help pay the bills whilst maintaining a façade of still searching for Eddie..

All these things went through Kates' head as she trudged off into the night, back to her home to try and figure out how she will continue to pay the nursing home fees now..

**The First Time**

Frank Hardcastle was in trouble, out of his depth, out of breath and out of luck.. and worst of all he knew it.

Desperately trying to catch his breath, hiding behind what appeared to be an old furnace, Frank wondered just how he ended up here.

Of course, it started with a damme. Kate Miller to be precise. She'd blown into his office along with the gust from the street, throwing the mess on his desk and what remained of his life in turmoil.

Frank had been doing a damn good job of forgetting all his problems again in the bottle of cheap bourbon until she came in and brought it all crashing back down again. Of course looking back now there was an inevitability to it, that he would somehow end up back here, back connected to that first big case again. Snapping out of it, realising that he had been staring into space and reminiscing, Frank had agreed to take on the case and she had practically fled his office.. It's not like he had much choice in the matter Frank scolded to himself. He needed the money like badly needed the money. but he also knew that that little voice, the frank of old told him that deep in his Heart "it wouldn't end well".

Frank had had a promising career 10 years ago. Risen through the ranks to detective and a damn fine one at that. Sure he was a little rough around the edges even then, but he got the job done and the whisper had it that he was on the fast track to making commissioner some day. That was all before that case.. His first truly big case.

The missing schoolboy. Some sleepy village and some quiet school. A missing boy, and connected parents that got him in front of a news camera. Frank knew that it was a mistake.. promising to find the boy.. but by then it was too late. A crying mother a hotshot detective, the media lapped it up and ran with it. And that was the start of his quick fall from grace. As the case went cold and the pressure mounted, he got sloppy, cut corners and that's when things really went wrong.

Months later, out of the force with nothing but an old badge he'd managed to not hand in, a lifetime of regrets, a failed marriage and a drinking problem. Frank was left with nothing but the bottle and a burning desire to erase the whole thing from his mind.

And yet here he was again, back in little rosewater and back at this school again. Investigating another missing person.

Sober for the first time in a long time, Frank realised how out of shape he was and just how far he had slid. Even as off his game as he was, he knew that something was off with that girl. Sure she seemed sweet and nice enough, being helpful and answering all his questions. But something just didn't sit right with him. All those "promises" she kept asking him to make, and that little chuckle when he "promised" he wouldn't go into the basement. He couldn't for the life of him remember now, why during the investigation into that missing Spencer Ward, he nor anyone else ever went into the basement, it all seemed like a logical place, but I guess now was his chance, so for the first time, he descended the stairs..

And that's how he ended up down here, lost and stumbling around in the darkness, His now useless torch in one hand, a failing lighter his only source of illumination, and that's when the noises started. The high pitched laughter, like two girls sharing a creepy and terrifying joke.. and that constant feeling like something was watching him.. moving from this wall to the next. Never in reach, never solid, something he couldn't grasp but always there..

As Frank stumbled around another corner, away from where he thought the laughter and the eyes were.. he turned and jumped.. dropping the torch but thankfully keeping the lighter up. A schoolgirl was stood in the middle of the room. Bright red hair illuminated by a couple of candles and his now rapidly dwindling lighter.

"Oh are you here to play too" her wishful tones carried across the room, as he let out a held breath of relief. If this girl was here she might know the way out. Silently gliding towards Frank, clutching a thin blade behind her back.." i was just painting and I ran out of red"....

**Snow Angel's**

The heavy snowfall and swirling winds discouraged anyone from looking up into the evening sky, and even if they did they still wouldn't have seen the invisible and motionless form of Barrattiel standing atop the statue. 130 feet up in the air it was the angel's favourite place to watch and observe the city below.

Time and the weather had little meaning to Barrattiel, having weathered both for millennia in the service of the higher powers.

Lost in thought it was still impossible to miss the arrival of Nanael a fellow angel in the same choir.

After an hour of silent observation and contemplation, they resumed their conversation with a familiarity of two very old friends.

"I assume that you have heard nothing more on the matter from the higher ups?" Nanael inquired in a whisper barely audible above the deadening effect of the wind and snow.

"Not directly" replied Barrattiel, "although I have received the cryptic responses of 'All shall be clear in the fullness of time' and 'that they BOTH were still on course for playing a key role in events to come'" he continued. Nanael was surprised by the hint of both frustrations as well as curiosity in the tone of the reply.

After another hour of silence, Nanael always considered the more talkative and inpatients amongst their fellow order of angels continued. "Of course Nuriel has the easier assignment. They are practically just an observer at this point. The one they call Imogen hardly requires direct intervention at this point. Just the occasional inspiration and she pretty much takes care of herself, she's well on her way to unlocking her true potential". Taking Barrattiel's slight nod as both acknowledgement and agreement to continue. "Rumour has it that Nuriel has requested permission to accelerate her development by "inspiring her" to visit 'The' Tibetan monastery before the next cycle. I hear that Shangri La is most beautiful at this time of year".. Receiving no response from Barrattiel to either continue or stop, Nuriel continued ahead. "Of course it will be denied, we cannot interfere like that but still if she could then maybe my job would be easier. Keeping the one they call Robert alive and well at this point is becoming quite the challenge. I'm only here because he is safely asleep under the watch of his father".

Finally, more than just a flicker of a response from Barrattiel stopped the angel from continuing. "hmm indeed" was the only reply before they both resumed their contemplation in silence.

Hours later and night had fallen. Aware that 'Time' was running out before they needed to depart again, separating for their respective assignments, Barrattiel finally responded with a weary sigh "I guess as always they are correct in all things, we shall just have to wait and find out what happens. Whilst we of all of the creations are used to waiting, its just all very intriguing. After all, both of them are unique amongst their kind and both seem to have a key part to play in critical future events". Nanael nodding in agreement, Nanael recalled a previous conversation and the details of how Barrattiel had been tasked with saving the demon/human called Barnaby and in doing so helping the other chosen one.. the prophesied one .. the one they called Hero Sheep to achieve and realise its own potential. Sharing in Barratteils confusion over the events, Nanael briefly laid a hand on Barrattiels shoulder in an act of compassion, comfort and acknowledgement.

Without further comment, Nanael lazily stepped off the statue and plummeted rapidly yet gracefully to the street below and quickly moved off to the north towards the direction of some distance sirens. Barrattiel watched Nanael gently brush the cheek of a young mother in passing, causing her to turn her head and notice the dropped teddy bear of her young charge.

Breaking into a small smile and finally coming to term yet again with not knowing, Barrattiel dropped off the statue and walked into the night towards the next assignment, Both angels leaving nothing but a recovered teddy, and echo's in the snow.

**The door.**

Warning. This starts light but gets heavy pretty quickly. Dont read if you are not happy with adult themes.. (not lewd) I'm trying to hit more darker themes with this one. like episode 13 dark. Be warned.

For the hundredth time, she retraced the all to familiar steps to Imogen’s and Layla’s dorm room. This time it would be different she told herself. She was going to knock on the door and speak to them about Robert. She had rehearsed what she was going to say and hoped that she wouldn’t get too nervous and get it wrong. Janet had done the math.. she had even built a compatibility calculating machine. She wasn’t 100% certain exactly how it worked, but all her testing had proved it worked. Sure her and Robert weren’t the 97.8584% of one of the pairings she tested... but they were still an excellent 84.437% compatible, that was more than even her parents and they had been happily married for 25 years.

After months of anguish and doubt , laying awake at night , daydreaming and generally spending far too much time thinking about a future together with him. She could see it now, sharing a private joke in classes. Holding hands and going on a real actual dates, growing closer together and then well who knows. Janet had even let herself get a little carried away and started to factoring him into her grand plan. Maybe going to university together and maybe.. some day even getting married and having kids.. all after she had gotten her career up and going of course and after she had been made head scientist at some serious lab. Heck maybe they could invent something and retire early to some nice little place and just invent things together. The perfect ‘Power couple’, joint Nobel prize winners for some new revolutionary power source, She liked the sound of that.. but she was getting ahead of herself, start at the beginning she told herself. She just needed to have a girl to girl talk with Imogen first, she knew him best, and where Janet stood.

Logical and methodical, she was tonight finally ready to take the next step. She was pretty sure that Robert was interested in her but still she had doubts. It was only as she retraced those familiar steps. Up the bare cold steps, down that corridor, following that same old faded and fraying carpet and stood in front of the paint chipped fire door at the end of the corridor leading to their room, that she truly believed.. believed that this time she would go through with it. Start things in motion that would lead to all that she hoped for... and it was at this exact moment that she heard the fireworks..

Fireworks really loud like they were in the building. Like there were in Imogen’s room, oh she was aware that the whole gang were into ’stuff’ crazy unexplainable stuff, just like that night in the museum.. it was part of the reason she had reservations about Robert and getting involved with the lot of them but all of this didn’t occur to her in that exact second.. uncomprehending and still slightly confused she automatically continued on her path to the door.. it wasn’t until other students started to open their doors and tentatively stuck their heads out that time started to return to normal and she began to realise that something wasn’t right.. but her legs continued to carry her forwards to her destination, to the Door. The rest of the students disappeared and slammed the doors shut when the first of the loud crashes and broken glass happened.. but it was the animalistic roar of anger and heart wrenching pain , like a part of someone’s soul had just been ripped out that caused her to stop dead in her tracks and the corridor to slam into absolute silence.. silence until she saw and heard bare feet slapping the floor as what at a distance looked like Imogen sprint out of the far end of the corridor and into the room.

Walking like an automaton Janet continued down the now deserted and lonely corridor. What little residual hope and joy that lingered in her system was draining rapidly and extinguished when she finally got to the door. Taking a second to notice the strange holes in the far wall, she turned back to the door. The door that until that moment had symbolised all those times of staring at it daring herself to knock, it had finally came to be the gateway towards her happy future.. a future that now looked as tattered and as smashed as the door in front of her. She stood motionless in front of that door for what felt like an eternity but could only have been moments, poised halfway between a habitual knock and a desire to run away.. until the door was thrown open and she was bowled over , unseen by a fleeing Robert followed by what appeared to be violet quickly following after..

In her confused and dazes state, Janet had just long enough to register the briefest flicker of the kindling of the flame she held for Robert as she caught sight of a side of him she had never witnessed. the blooded and ashen face couldn’t distract from the mixture of determination mixed with anguish and loss that his set jaw and tear streamed cheeks screamed out. The quickest of glances caught the harrowed look and disarming vulnerability in his eyes mixed with a burning fire of vengeance tinged with fear and concern.

All of this was instantly lost in a heartbeat as he disappeared around the corner and she , dazed and shell shocked turned back to that door and the horror that lay within.

At first her brain just couldn’t comprehend the sight, for one with such a sharp intellect and mental capacity, for it to in effect stall and stop when she needed it most was jarring enough.. Janet’s gazed wander mechanically yet not processing past the giant hole where the window used to be. As she pushed the door further open her senses were truly assaulted by a riot of colours and smells and an overwhelming tangible almost physical sense of pain and despair as though the very air was saturated with it. She couldn’t understand why James was lying there on the floor and where all the red was coming from. When her brain started to unlock she was able to detect the smell of splintered cheap hardboard and plaster dust in the air, she finally started to understand that it was the wind from the hole that was blowing fragments of brick dust into her face, making her eyes sting and start to blur. That the high pitched noise was a combination of sirens in the distance and her own runaway heartbeat in her ears.. then it truly hit her and she collapsed to her knees.. something still wasn’t right her stuttering brain was screaming over and over again as though stuck on loop.. of course everything with what was assailing her sense wasn’t right but still something was overriding her conscious thought.. something deeper more instinctive..

Janet shuffled forward on her knees, barely registering the change in texture beneath her them, from the carpeted floor to the trail of wet, viscous red that even still was spreading outwards.. ignoring the almost palpable taste of panic and fear and biting down the desire to run from this place. Find a hole and hide in it. She carefully edged closer to the unnaturally still body of James, picking up he hand and just holding it. she started to speak.. “I’m here James , I’m here with you, your not alone.. There is no reason to be afraid” she half said that last part to him and the rest to herself.. repeating it like a mantra as though verbalising it would lend her the strength to cope here alone with all this.

This was how they stayed.. with Janet holding his hand and wiping his brow until the police and paramedics arrived and the questions started.

It was only days later, climbing those stairs again for the first time that she realised she couldn’t face that door again.. that door that had promised such hope and joy and the potential for soo soo much more now represented something else.. the loss, of her innocence and dreams.

She had visited Robert in hospital of course.. she hadn’t meant to say what she had. She had wanted to tell him all the things from before that door and that night.. .. but the words came all wrong and she was hurt and tired and wasn’t able to close her eyes again without feeling that same sense of pain and helplessness. But most of all she was still afraid. Afraid Of never being able to forget that wind in her face and the tears down her cheeks, the smell of that room and the feel of the hand in hers.

Authors note # normally i avoid main characters and npcs. I believe they are not my stories to intrude on.. and i also try and avoid such heavy themes.. but these were two stories i though worth investigating. Whilst i believe that the cast ic’ly played these scenes perfectly.. something ooc just didnt sit right with me And i think james deserved someone there with him in the end.

**Nexus of Power**

Long before the dawn of mankind, and lost in the annals of time. The final battle was waged, pitting the old gods against the new upstarts, a titanic clash of powers rent the universe.
Expending unimaginable power into the cosmos, many gods were killed until only two remained.. they battled for aeons more and then finally eventually they were both spent.

The 'Mad God' last of the Old gods managed to land one final blow onto the 'Laughing god' of the new pantheon, however, neither was truly defeated and too exhausted to continue both retreated to their own now ruined planes of existence to conserve what little power they had left and to plot the others downfall.
After setting plans in motion and dispatching their agents, both remaining gods settled into slumber, awaiting a time when they could rise again, take their revenge and claim dominion over all.

For the past 6000 years, the agents of the last of the 'gods' warred with each other, each trying to bring about the "full" resurrection of their slumbering deities.
Humans, demons and interdimensional beings alike were slaughtered in their millions in service to this end, countless fortunes were created and spent to further the cause, clandestine assassinations and continent-spanning wars were all engineered and unleashed to further the agendas. Over time every conceivable angle was explored and exploited by each side to try and beat the other side to the goal. Whole generations of families were indoctrinated, manipulated and cultured to breed the perfectly honed tools for the fulfilment of the new two distinct orders.. those of the 'Demens order', whose sole purpose was the restoration of The mad one under the leadership of The grandmaster Clowdous Magnar the 345th, and the 'Brotherhood of scherzi' solely bent on unleashing the Laughing one back upon the cosmos under the guiding hands of Doctor Jose McKhuckles.

All of this conflict and everything that he had been "engineer' to do and achieve was all coming to ahead tonight. Tonight it all changed, tonight they would win and he would be rewarded for bringing about the end of the universe as everyone knew it. His whole life had been leading up to this point, all the pawns were in place.. the blood sacrifices even now were being made all over the globe at the appropriate nexus points in the most powerful lay lines.. Of course, the other side was also attempting something as well, trying their pitiful attempts, as this was after all the first time in 5000 years that the planets were aligned correctly and the flow of magic would be at its most powerful. He had, of course, spent a lifetime making it so, manipulating events, killing the right people, bribing the wrong.. securing and using the right magical items and devices and generally committing every sort of crime that this world had defined to bring about the right circumstances to rebirth his god.. Surprisingly the grandmaster had discovered almost too late that the brotherhood had actually been assisting these efforts, they clearly had a similar plan to his own but he would be the one to succeed. He must succeed because failure was not an option, not after all of the resources he had spent. The order was near bankrupt and agents had been burnt and nearly all the cards he had at his considerable disposal had been played.. It had cost him as well, every ounce of his influence in the sacred council, he'd murder, blackmailed and generally strong-armed his way to getting this far with his plan and it had garnered him, enemies.. those cautious old fools had exercised caution, had tried to hold something back in case it failed.. but it wasn't going to fail, he had committed too much to go with half measures.. everything was in place for the start of the sacred ceremony..

It was an odd setting for bringing about the end of the world.. Perched here atop a high school, Sunnydale highschool, now thankfully empty and decommissioned thanks to his own efforts to render it "uninhabitable" due to a "chemical spill of his own devising", sure it meant that he was now slowly poised and dying from it but none of that matter. As the loyal and faithful servant, he would be elevated to demi-god when his plan would succeed and none of this or these pitiful sheep below him would matter.

This was where he was meant to be according to the research, this was one of the most powerful nexus points for magic in the whole of America and this would be where he completed his ritual..

And with a final check of the preparations, the Grandmaster gave a silent nod to his trusted true believing lieutenant next to him and the ritual began

Unknown to the grand master at that exact time, Dr McKhuckles was equally thinking remarkably similar thoughts, Having committed all the resources of the Brotherhood to tonight's ritual he equally started the necessary chants and sayings to bring about the return of the 'laughing one'.. "Man walks into a bar...." rang out across the packed catacombs hidden beneath saint Michels cathedral in Brussels.

After three gruelling hours of chanting and spell casting, sacrifice and ceremony, the ritual was nearing completion. Everything had gone according to plan and scripture and the Grandmaster could feel the gathering power accumulate.. The Orders seers had predicted that the flow of magic should have been stronger at this point, but the grandmaster was certain that everything was on track.. everything was on track as he entered the other realm as he prepared the final stage of the ritual.. and it was at this point that he encountered the spirit form of Dr Jose McKhuckles, his arch nemesis..

The two 'leaders' instantly locked onto each others presences and redouble their efforts to complete their respective rituals.. unable to physically stop each other at this point and both fully committed it was a race and a battle of wills to see whom could alter and manipulate the flow of magical energy to bring out the end of the world and the resurrection of their gods.

Calling forth all his will and sending a signal back into the real world for spiritual reinforcements, the grandmaster plunged headlong into the 'battle' regardless of the cost.. committing every ounce of his spirit he battled on.

For two hours the two warring factions battled and wrestled for control of the massive flow of energy, each employing every remain spirtiual reserve left, drawing on centries of learning and teaching, pulling in every last convert and deciple to try and tip the balance, both sides fully commited.. the battle raged back and forth.. catastophic losses were suffered on both sides, with accolytes on both sides dropping dead from sheer exhaustion and drained of their life essences.. finally both sides mirroring the origional battle between their dieties were nearing the end of the resources and yet the magical engery continud to build, build as the riturals continued and combined and feeding on the very esseense of those involved in its creation.. and just as both rituals neared completion, both the grandmaster and the doctor could sense their lifeforces failing and yet were driven onwards by the increasingly loud whispers from the dreams of their slumbering dieties.. it was at this exact moment of triumph.. that it occured..

An explosion of power in a distance nexus, lay line.. a bright star of light that instantly sucked the control of the tempest of magic that they had both been building and feeding away from them, stripping them of what remained of their will, lifeforce and essence and consumed them in an instance...

Only one acolyte remained alive from the inevitable backlash.. a small inconsequential acolyte, driven mad by the struggle they had been dragged into. , hauled in front of the remaining members of the Orders council and debriefed for 4 days before they finally succumbed and died.

All the order learned from the mad ramblings of this insane acolyte was, that at the moment of their triumph.. at the very moment when the ritual would have been complete.. a power had emerged and "stolen" the magical energy for their own purpose.. Dragged along with the magical energy the acolyte had 'witnessed a girl, a school girl surround by a ring of pure magic and what looked like a dorm room, a demon, two bodies of teenage boys on the ground apparently dead and yet one was alive.. "...

Left with nothing else to go on and with the entire organisation spent, they discounted this information as just mad ramblings, blaming the previous now deceased grandmaster, they set about rebuilding and starting again awaiting the next chance to resume their goal, which should be in another 3000 years time..