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buffyfic-digest     Wednesday, September 23 1998     Volume 02 : Number 336



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (28/31)
       BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (29/31)
       BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (30/31)
       BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (31/31) ..finally...
       BUFFYFIC: Admin:  New rule-- please read!
       BUFFYFIC:Walls (POEM)
       BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: KIng of the World (10/10)

See the end of the digest for information on (un)subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 22:20:58 -0700
From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (28/31)

TITLE: "The Necromancer" (Part 28/31)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: I'd greatly appreciate any constructive criticisim.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence and sexual implications.
DESCRIPTION: My first BTVS fanfic with a new villian as the title character.
This story is set after the end of the second season and after Buffy returns
for the third season. It was written before the third season was broadcast and
may not accurately reflect a third season setting.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to "Phases" and "Becoming".

==============

Scene 27

A flurry of sensation ended as Oz and Willow found themselves bolted down at
the wrists and ankles. A group of zombies that had fastenend them down
leisurely exited the underground cavern they occupied. The tables they laid on
were uncomfortable to say the least.

"Welcome, welcome," said Abel. He didn't seem to talk to either of them in
particular, but addressed them like a crowd. It was obvious he had made this
speech before.

"Yes, welcome, people. Some meaning will come to your insignifigant lives as
you become subjects in the greatest calling of mankind. Be assured any hurt,
pain, loss of limb or life you may incur is for matters literally of life and
death," Abel advised. He put his arms out from his sides and a zombie removed
his coat without any prompting.

Willow and Oz were still disoriented with the sudden change of enviornment.

"We necromancers sometime need fresh specimens for our research," Abel
explained to Willow as he checked her eyes and mouth like a canine on show. He
then walked over to Oz to do the same then rip open his shirt.

"I've always wanted to play with a werewolf. In my short, distinguished career
I'd never had the opportunity," Abel said while mixing together a concoction
nearby. Oz recoiled in pain as a clump of hair was ripped from his scalp and
tossed in with the mixture.

"This may sting a bit," Abel cautioned as he dumped the mixture onto Oz's
chest. Oz contorted in pain, but was held fast by his bindings. As the fluid
scalded and bonded itself into his skin he let out an agonized yell.

"The thing about wearwolves is they are so moody. I mean, they're only
bloodthristy, amoral killers a few days out of the month. Where's the fun in
that?" sarsastically questioned Abel.

"But, we necromancers always seek to improve. Procedure to make the wearwolf
state permanent is common knowledge," assured Abel. That being said he began
reciting yet another incatation. It was quick and comparatively unspectacular.
Once it was finished hellfire leapt onto Oz's body and ignited upon contact
with the mixture that was burning itself into his flesh.

Willow squinted and looked over with horror and the turmoil her companion was
going through.

"Oz!" she screamed.

"Don't worry it's much more painful than it looks. . . oops, slip of the
tongue," Abel attempted to comfort.

Once the hellfire died down it was apparent Abel had once again succeeded. The
werewolf that was Oz easily ripped itself free from it's confines and lunged
at Abel. Unimpressed, Abel curbed it back with a blast of hellflame.

"Run along and play naughty," ordered Abel with another blast of hellfire that
herded the werewolf out the exit of the room. Willow looked on in disbelief at
the beast that was her boyfriend as he scurried away.

------------------------------

Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 22:21:52 -0700
From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (29/31)

TITLE: "The Necromancer" (Part 29/31)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: I'd greatly appreciate any constructive criticisim.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence and sexual implications.
DESCRIPTION: My first BTVS fanfic with a new villian as the title character.
This story is set after the end of the second season and after Buffy returns
for the third season. It was written before the third season was broadcast and
may not accurately reflect a third season setting.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to "Phases" and "Becoming".

==============

Scene 28

"Are you sure that was the necromancer?" asked Xander.

"I don't know. What does he look like?" replied Cordelia. She leaned back
against the library counter.

"Pale, dark hair, about our age," described Xander.

"That's him. He was wearing some pretty nice clothes, too," affirmed Cordelia.

Xander shook his head and grinned to himself.

"What?" questioned Cordelia.

"That's the first thing I'd notice if my friends disappeared in an inferno,
how their kidnapper was dressed," sarcastically commented Xander.

"Sorry," overstated Cordelia. She continued, "I was just trying to help
identify this guy. You seem quick to judge recently."

"Hey, guys," approached Buffy.

"You look like you've been in one whopper of a scuffle," commented Xander.

"Did you get that vampire?" asked Cordelia.

"Yeup, one suped up vampire accounted for and slayed. I for one am ready to go
after the source of all this," said Buffy as she glanced about.

"Where's Willow?" she questioned.

Xander and Cordelia exchanged a couple relunctant looks. Finally Xander spoke.

"Um, the necromancer kidnapped her and Oz," he said.

"That's it," declared Buffy while turning to leave.

"Where are you going?" asked Xander.

"To rescue Willow," Buffy answered.

"Wait, remember the whole walking into this guy's lair is a death trap thing?"
called out Xander after her. But, it was too late. Buffy was already gone and
determined to rescue her friends. Xander grabbed his jacket.

"I'm going to follow her," he said.

"Of course you are," quickly replied Cordelia.

The two stared at each other for just a second. Xander gave a frustrated sigh
and went of to join Buffy.

------------------------------

Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 22:23:17 -0700
From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (30/31)

TITLE: "The Necromancer" (Part 30/31)
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: I'd greatly appreciate any constructive criticisim.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence and sexual implications.
DESCRIPTION: My first BTVS fanfic with a new villian as the title character.
This story is set after the end of the second season and after Buffy returns
for the third season. It was written before the third season was broadcast and
may not accurately reflect a third season setting.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to "Phases" and "Becoming".

==============

Scene 29

Willow squirmed in her tabletop confines. She couldn't believe this was
happening nor could she imagine what Abel had in store for her.

"Tell me, how do you feel?" asked Abel as he was busy about something out of
Willow's sight. She thought she had misheard at first.

"What?" she returned at the awkward question.

"How do you feel?" reiterated Abel.

"I don't feel fine," Willow answered. It was the best reply she could come up
with.

"No, no. You misunderstand me. I was asking the question in a literal sense,"
corrected Abel. He turned with a thin, metal needle-like object in his hands.

"I'd imagine your skin would be so young and smooth, wouldn't it?" Abel
speculated as he examined the needle absently. Willow felt more and more
uncomfortable. With Oz and all the scurrying zombies gone she felt very alone
with her captor. She hadn't realized how cold and spacious the room was.

Abel poked the needle into his index finger with precision. When he pulled it
out his finger healed as quickly as one could think.

"Did you know that I can't feel? In the literal sense that is," questioned
Abel. No answer was given.

He continued explaning, "The very demons and dark forces we summon and
manipulate corrupt our bodies. A variety of twisted malformations are common
among necromancers. The most prevalent are  complection irregularities and the
lack of touch sensory."

Abel snapped out of his trance like stare, got up, and began sorting through
objects again.

"I suppose it's to our advantage, not being able to feel that is," he said as
he sat and closed his eyes.

"But, there are times and experiences where one would rather savor the moment
with a sense of touch. And where there's a will, there is a way," said Abel.
He openend his eyes to reveal no longer a pink hue, but a common brown.
Gradually color returned to his normally pallid skin.

Abel scrambled for the needle once again to see if his endeavor had suceeded.
He eagerly poked it into his index finger and withdrew the needle quickly.

"Hah ha! It worked," he exclaimed with gladness.

"Aach!" again exclaimed Abel this time out of a realization of pain. He shook
his hand in the air until the discomfort subsided. Now he turned his
attentions to Willow.

Abel walked malevolently to where Willow couldn't see him. She strained to
raise her head off the table and barely made out his figure beyond her feet.
He closed to the edge of the table slowly.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you," said Abel quietly. Willow could
feel the fear rise in her neck. It was punctuated by her increasingly louder
and louder heartbeat. She closed her eyes and tried with all her will to not
be there.

The outstretched hand of Abel made contact with Willow's calf and she turned
her head away. The unwanted hand slid up her leg. It caused a kick reflex that
was subdued by the four point restraints, but succeeded in the removal of the
intrusive appendage.

"Relax. . . relax. . .," Abel whispered. He gently unbuckled the ankle clamps
on the table.

Meanwhile a trepidatious Buffy finished her descent into the underground lair
that Abel called home. Her eyes shifted right to left in anticipation for the
prophesized death trap. After passing several uncaring zombies she concluded
that it wasn't going to sprung. She quickend her pace down the dark hallway.

"Hmmm, he must be preoccupied with something," Buffy guessed aloud.

Abel's hand once again met Willow's calf. He let it remain there for a few
more seconds. It held  nearly stationary, but Willow could feel a very slight
rubbing motion. It once again made its way up along her leg. This time it was
much slower.

Willow just remained still. She felt moisture in her tightly closed eye and
realized she was crying. How could this be happening to her? Why was this
happening to her? She kept as still as she could and hoped it would all go
away. As the cold, unwanted hand passed over her knee and up her thigh she
never had regretted wearing a skirt so much ever in her life.

Buffy turned a chance corner and peered through a doorway to see one of her
best friends at the mercy of one of her worst enemies. Anger bellowed up out
of her gut and raged itself at the human monster that was Abel. She didn't
have time to think. Buffy always kept a stake handy and without concious
effort it was thrown from her hand.

"Grrarh!" yelled Abel in pain and he staggered to turn around. He reached
around and removed the stake from his back. Looking at it in unbelief he
finally tossed it aside.

"How dare you use your mundane weapons against me like I'm some vampire?"
angrily questioned Abel while still feeling the hurt of a sharp object.

"I will make quick work of you!" he declared as he raised fists bellowing
hellfire. Buffy gulped and braced herself to be hit by this evil weapon. To
her wonder, however, the terrible flames didn't leap forward at her. Instead
they ignited upon Abel's body like someone doused in gasoline.

Buffy relized the extent of the backfire as Abel fell to the floor in agony.
His own cries of pain couldn't be heard over the loud, deafening screams of
the hellfire. He must of danced in macabre death throes for quite awhile.
Buffy was content to stand back and watch it happen. The cataclysim petered
out and Abel's body lay still on the ground.

With the grandness of Abel's demise over, quiet took over the scene enough for
Buffy to make out a traumatized, crackling voice. She strained to hear the
quiet sound after her ears had been bombarded by the loud noise that came
before it. It was Willow's voice.

"Buffy. . . Buffy. . .," the voice timidly called out in a slow cadence.

Buffy answered the cry of her friend who was going through stages of shock.
She ran as quickly as she could to Willow's side and ripped her restraints
away. Willow gazed up, but looked right through Buffy.

At a loss for anything to do or say, Buffy picked up Willow's shoulders off
the table and embraced her in a sisterly hug. Willow continued to speak out
Buffy's name in a sadening call for salvation.

"I'm here. . . you're safe," Buffy said. With her spoken words also came the
implied promise of a powerful fidelity.

Xander came upon the scene and attempted to catch his breath now that he had
caught up. He glanced over at Buffy and Willow and then at Abel's body.
Fixated, he slowly closed with the body until he was standing over it. He
leaned over and felt for a pulse.

"Is he?" asked Buffy while still comforting Willow.

Xander waited a couple seconds and was actually glad that he didn't feel a
pulse. He started to turn to deliver the good news when a faint heartbeat
startled him. How could someone survive in this state? He turned and faced
Buffy without a word on his lips. She could tell that Abel had survived
somehow by the mixed expression of concern and fear on Xander's face.

------------------------------

Date: Tue, 22 Sep 1998 22:24:54 -0700
From: "J. Jericho Born" <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "The Necromancer" (31/31) ..finally...

TITLE: "The Necromancer" (Part 31/31) THE END
AUTHOR: J. Jericho Born
E-MAIL: [e-mail]
FEEDBACK: I'd greatly appreciate any constructive criticisim.
DISTRIBUTION: The author reserves rights on this story. Please do not
distribute without expressed permission.
RATING: PG-13  Contains violence and sexual implications.
DESCRIPTION: My first BTVS fanfic with a new villian as the title character.
This story is set after the end of the second season and after Buffy returns
for the third season. It was written before the third season was broadcast and
may not accurately reflect a third season setting.
DISCLAIMER: The writer of this unauthorized fan fiction is not affiliated with
any of the parties involved in the making of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The
characters are the property of Joss Whedon and whomever else the lawyers may
deem fit, they are used without permission. Technically that is not legal, but
I'm not anticipating any law suits. This work, the plot line, and the
characters introduced that are not already featured on Buffy the Vampire
Slayer are the work of Joshua Jericho Born, Copyright 1998.
SPOILERS: Spoilers to "Phases" and "Becoming".

==============

Scene 30

The companions that had waged an unlikely battle against the latest foe to
come to the Hellmouth were gathered in Giles' apartment. All except one, that
is. Oz in werewolf form was still at large. Abel was unconscious, but still
barely alive. Much had yet to be resolved. But, for tonight all were eager to
wrap up and get some rest.

Abel's body was strewn clumsily on Giles' living room table. Willow was
slightly removed from the rest of the group. She sat in a corner staring out a
readily available window.

"The other one was deceased then?" asked Giles.

"Yeah, it looks like Abel here didn't get along with him very well," answered
Buffy.

"Apparently, this Abel fellow rebelled against the establishment that sent him
here and put a seal on whatever gateway he came through. If he dies and the
seal is destroyed then we may have to deal with dozens more just like him. I'm
the first to say feed him to the lions, but it's in our best interest to keep
him alive," explained Giles.

"At least it looks like he's not going to give us much trouble," observed
Xander. As soon as he finished his statement he bowed his head in
embarrassment.

"I'm jinxing us by saying that aren't I?" added Xander rhetorically.

"Where are we going to keep him?" questioned Cordelia.

Buffy left the conversation quietly and walked over to Willow who kept staring
out the window idly. Buffy gently put her hand on Willow's shoulder and
finally got a glance from her.

"We'll find him," consoled Buffy.

==============

THE END

What did you think of the story? Want to know about sequels? Send feedback via
e-mail to: [e-mail]

------------------------------

Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1998 10:07:23 -0500 (CDT)
From: Jill Kirby <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: Admin:  New rule-- please read!

Effective today, we're amending the list rules slightly...

Going forward, please limit your story part posts to three per 24 hour
period.  Those three posts can be from one story you're working on, or
from separate stories, but an individual author may not post more than
three story parts per day.

No one has done anything wrong to make this rule necessary-- it's just a
question of managing the list/digest volume so that the admin account
doesn't go *spuh.*

We'll be amending the full list rules shortly, but please consider this
rule effective immediately.  As always, if you have any questions, please
contact me or Sharon offlist.

Thanks.

Jill
co-listowner
Jill Kirby - [e-mail]
There is no good news.
     -- Madeline, "La Femme Nikita"

------------------------------

Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1998 22:52:54 -0400 (EDT)
From: [e-mail]
Subject: BUFFYFIC:Walls (POEM)

 TITLE: Walls (POEM)
 AUTHOR: JadeCara
 EMAIL: [e-mail]
DISTRIBUTION:
 RATING:  ???
 SUMMARY: Kind of buffy's feelings towards everything during the end of
 Becoming when she id on the bus.
 NOTE: Its odd, but pretty nifty.   I would ove feed back....



               Banging my head
               against the wall,
               It doesn't hurt in this padded
               room,
               Here I am ready to fall,
               Standing on the ceiling gazing at
               the moon.

              Pacing on the walls,
               Gazing at the door,
              Shaking and screaming,
               As I  fall to the floor,.

               Sitting there against the wall,
               My knees drawn to my chin,
               Rocking back and forth,
               Laughing at something funny that
               no one did again.
               Gazing at the painted
               windows,
               All black with bars of light,
               They dont have the bars to cage
               me,
               deep inside the night.

               Standing and walking,
               Until I'm pressed against the
               door,
               Looking out at the faces,
               That I dont see anymore.

               Touching hands through the glass,
               their hands are cold as steel.
               Wishing I could live their life,
               But not wanting them to be in
               here.

               I look into their eyes,
               And then I turn my head.
                I wound die,
               If I had to look at them again.

               But I lose control,
               And I turn to look again.
               But they are gone walking slowly
               down the hall,
               To me, this is the end.


------------------------------

Date: Wed, 23 Sep 1998 23:54:16 -0400
From: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: SpikeFic: KIng of the World (10/10)

Title: King of the World (10/10)
Author: ~Ripe Wicked Plum~ a.k.a. Goth Spike
([e-mail])
Distribution: Everywhere and anywhere provided my name is left attached
and you let me know where it is posted.
Description: Spike meets a celebrity on the streets of Sunnydale,
wackiness ensues.
Rating: Overall, I'd say R for language and violence.
Feedback: "Do you like it, Baby?"
Disclaimer: Inspired by a thread on the Unholy Allies list. The original
idea wasn't mine, but I was the first to do anything with it. The
characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are not my creations. They are
the products of Joss Whedon's incredibly vivid imagination. Leo is not
mine either. He is the product of our warped society.

    "Oh, Romeo, bloody Romeo," Spike said, kicking Leo in the groin.
"That's for butcherin' the Bard's words like that."
    "Mmmmph mmmph mmmmm mmm mmmmmmmmmph--"
    Spike removed the gag, "What was that?"
    "I just played it the way they told me to," Leo protested.
    "Yes," Spike said, "but, you could've turned the part down."
    He reached up and yanked one of Leo's fingernails out. The boy passed
out from the pain. Spike punched him and he woke up.
    "That's for bein' a wanker with no sense of poetry."
    "I doubt you are much of a poet," Leo hissed.
    "Really, Mate? Well just so 'appens I'm quite good at limericks," he
paused, thinking of one.
        "Bill Clinton went to Nantucket
         and let a young woman suck it
         She did it with style,
         left him with a smile,
         but then she refused to fuck it."
    Leo laughed in spite of his pain. Spike chuckled at his own joke and
then slapped Leo across the face. The boy's face burned. His nose had
been broken the night before and had settled into a dull ache, but the
slap had caught his nose, setting his face on fire with pain.
    "That's for me 'avin' to see your ugly mug on the cover of every
magazine for the past three years!"
    Spike kicked him until he had broken the boy's ribs and then leaned in
close to his face. Leo was whispering something through gasps of pain.
    "Please don't kill me," came the weak request.
    "Lad, you're already dead. You just 'aven't realized it yet."
    Spike vamped out and shredded the boy's face with his fingernails. Leo
started to scream, but the sound never came. Spike snapped his neck like
a twig and fed off of the corpse. He plunged a third spike through the
silent heart. Grabbing a box, he cut one of the boy's hands off and let
it fall into the waiting container. He wrapped it up tightly and walked
upstairs.
    "Stephen," he called to his minion, seated on a pew, "I want you to set
sail for Europe tonight. You know where she'll be, in Prague. Give her
this as a peace offering."
    He handed the box and a thousand dollars to the vampire. As he watched
Stephen's form disappear through the door, Spike let his demonic face
recede and his human features return to the surface.
    "Dru will be pleased," he said to the empty church. "Dru will be
pleased."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

To be continued...perhaps.

He's dead! He's dead! The bloody whelp is dead! Joy and rapture!

~Ripe Wicked Plum~
- --
ICQ UIN=2607806
Goth Spike
All hail the Lettuce King!
I'm a Spike Girl, ask me how!
Spike's Ducks...and proud of it!
President and founder of the Leo is a Bloody Whelp Club
Proud member of Spuffy!

------------------------------

End of buffyfic-digest V2 #336
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