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madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Sachiko and her team investigate the old Slayer mansion...
Word Count: 2094
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS. Warnings for series-typical violence and gruesome and for longer than usual chapter.
But as the Watcher, a witch named Kuar with a heavy accent that she can’t identify, drives up to the mansion that a mere month ago had been their home, she feels a sense of foreboding. Every Slayer has senses beyond the five, often accompanied by visions to help them better accomplish their duty. Sent by the First Slayer, she assumes, though she’s never thought to ask before now.
She’s not dreaming, but she feels certain that they’re going to die. And yet, what would remain in these ruins? The Slaypires, if the phone conversation was any indication, had all moved on to Italy, and the group of evil lawyers had other things to concern themselves about.
Still, she tries not to show this fear in front of the others. Morale is important, as well. “We’re looking for signs of a spell. Move quiet and careful, and if you begin feeling like your mind is affected, call for Kuar or Sylvia immediately. We shouldn’t be fighting each other.” Instantly, she realizes that they’re not as prepared as they should be. They should’ve brought more magic-users, one per search group, but it’s too late now. They could call off the search, but that would hardly help morale, and they’d be far more likely to be noticed, the second time in. Cars driving down a dirt road (the back road) which only leads to an abandoned mansion at dusk are out of place enough without repeating the action. They’d looked over the map on the way, each choosing a particular location for themselves and, for the few who could, the Slayer or Watcher they were paired up with. They’re as ready as they’re going to be, and it’s the best time they’ll have for this venture, yet…
Yet trails of ice still crawl up Sachiko’s spine.
“Got it,” one Slayer replies and fades into the shadows. If she hadn’t been told otherwise, Sachiko wouldn’t have believed it wasn’t magic of some kind.
It’s just as eerie as Sachiko expects, traveling through the mission. There’s an expectant, cruel silence that’s settled over the once familiar, safe environment, so that what was a reminder of home now stands sinister and looming. She’s tempted to break the silence and begin chatting with Sylvia, just to feel the void that is threatening to consume them disappear, but she’s a senior enough Slayer to know that’s a rookie’s mistake. She says nothing, makes certain to quiet even her footsteps so that it’s as if they’ve never even been here.
They’ve been assigned the library, a massive, three-floored monstrosity in the middle of the mansion. It was somewhere that Sachiko had liked to go, near the beginning, devouring all the books she could find in English to improve her skills, the ones that she never thought she’d need from school. Now, though, it seems as if every tome will unleash an unspeakable horror, every volume filled with some kind of malevolent force.
It will also take approximately forever to search. Sylvia casts a seeking spell, just to be sure, but shakes her head dismally. “Nothing,” she whispers, and Sachiko is glad she hadn’t spoken before, because the danger seems like it’s pressing down from all sides, now.
They split up, though within sight of each other. It probably would be more useful if they took opposite sides of the room, but given how long it will take them to search, it’s more likely to be luck than anything.
With the army of Slayers and Slayer trainees that had filled this mansion, before, they could easily have finished in two hours, but as it stands they’ve taken a small scouting force and are sneaking around somewhere, by rights, that should be their home, a safe bastion against the evils that threaten. It’s a chilling reminder of how far they can fall in such a short period of time, that perhaps nothing is safe.
Sachiko shakes her head, shivering against the darkness and despair. No matter how strong evil is, they can’t let it triumph. They’re certainly not going to cringe in fear and just allow it to do whatever it wants.
Sachiko’s unsure of how long it’s been, but she’s interrupted from her quietly stacking books in order to mark where she’s searched on the shelves by a shaking voice. Sylvia’s.
“C-come look at this.”
Instantly she does, footfalls nearly silent against the floor. And stares in disgust at what’s in Sylvia’s hand.
It’s an eyeball, bloody and grotesque, complete with blood vessels and nerves. As a Slayer, Sachiko’s seen people dismembered, demons that resemble humans if they’re turned inside out, but this…
It’s still moist, which means…it’s fresh. Someone’s been here recently. She glances at the bookshelf. There’s more blood, and the blood vessels appear to have been torn accidentally by Sylvia as she retrieved it from the shelf. They trail back and lead out of sight behind the shelf, in the small space between the shelf and the wood behind it.
“Wh-who would do this?” Sylvia stammers, louder than she should be, but it’s not as if Sachiko can really blame her.
“And why?” It’s not as if it could be a warning of some kind. There’s no reason to think that anyone would find it, given that, since the state of the organ, it would have had to been placed after the mansion was abandoned, which means that the perpetrator would know no one lived here anymore. Never mind the fact that placing it behind a book in the library of upwards of two million books would mean it would be unlikely to be found, in any case…
Her instincts are screaming at her. They need to get out. Instantly, she’s struck by a thought more horrible, glances carefully at the eye color. “Sylvia, do any of the Slayers we came with have green eyes?”
The Watcher blanches and looks about ready to throw up, before reason returns a little and she shakes her head. “N-no. None of us do.”
They both nearly sigh of relief, before Sylvia has another thought. “I’m going to do a spell.” She pauses, mumbling, and almost messes up the pronunciation twice, which has Sachiko shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I…the owner of this eye is dead,” she states bleakly, beginning to shake again. “I see a corpse dumped into the sea…but…wait.” She shakes her head, looking terrified, and Sachiko tries to snap her out of it. It’s too late, apparently.
“There’s a face, too. It’s…the eyes aren’t green, but it’s like he’s also an ‘owner’ of this eye…”
Sachiko puts a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, shaking her firmly. “We need to leave. Now.”
“I think you’re right,” the girl agrees, and opens her hand once more with its monstrous find.
And, as if alive, the nerves and blood vessels suddenly move, spearing into Sylvia’s own eye as if they’re knives. She doesn’t even have the time to scream as they scoop out her own eye and begin to burrow deeper.
Sachiko immediately lets go of the girl’s shoulder, meeting the other, anguished eye before running. She wants to help Sylvia, save her, but Slayer instincts tell her that the girl is dead, and unless they leave the mansion now, the rest of them will be as well.
The time for silence is over. “Retreat!” she screams at the top of her lungs. She meets others, some confused, some horrified, running with just as much urgency. None of them question. They’ve all been trained well.
They nearly make it to the entrance, only to see a wall of water, heading in their direction. “Up!” one of the other Slayers bellows, and they go. There’s no time to worry about why it’s flooding. They need to survive and escape.
They make it to the top of the stairs, but quite a few have been dragged under the water, and Sachiko glances back to see a body, bloated unnaturally, float by.
“You need to survive and tell the Scoobies about this,” a girl whose name Sachiko guiltily cannot recall, states, and pushes her out one of the windows.
She falls, a little wet and bloody, peppered with glass, but alive. She glances up to see the water surge out of the window like it’s alive before retreating.
She tries to make it to her feet, sobbing desperately in her need to stay alive, to warn, as she hears footsteps approach. But she’s too weak.
She glances up to see a man, elegantly dressed, walks up to her. “Excuse me. Might I inquire to the nature of this building?”
She just stares at him, so he bows. “I apologize for bothering you. Have a nice day.”
He begins walking away, and she makes to get up, perhaps to drag herself along, only finds she can’t. There’s a line she can’t cross, and it’s begun to fill with water. She screams and pounds on the invisible wall, but no sound escapes.
She notices a branch on the ground and attempts to dig, but finds there’s an invisible wall there, too, and soon the water is sweeping her up higher. She pushes the bough against the “wall” hard, and with a Slayer’s strength it almost looks like she’s making it through—until she pulls it back and notices that it’s been cut cleanly. She can’t make it out that way. She reaches up and touches what feels like a ceiling. So the water will keep rising, until it drowns or crushes her.
If one of the witches was still alive, she might stand a chance. Whatever type of trap this is, the witch could possibly free her, and he looks like just a man with powers, and that’s no match for a determined, angry Slayer in close combat. Of course, there are some demons that look human, but even so, she’s seen Slayers accomplish the impossible, particularly when backed by magic.
Still, she’d known. She’d had the feeling that today was the day she would die ever since they began this trip. It’s too late to worry about dying now. But if anything she’s learned in her time with the Slayers, let alone her own personal optimism, it’s that even when heroes die, the Big Bad doesn’t have to win. She may not be able to do much, but she’s seen what Willow or even Andrew are capable with the technology and magic in their hands, and she believes with the same strength that she will die and they’ll be able to find her last, dying message.
Hopefully it’ll be enough. Hopefully they’ll win. But—no, she refuses to believe otherwise. They will win.
She pulls out her Slayer-issued phone with water-chilled trembling fingers, for once glad of the expense of the waterproof version that Buffy had insisted on. Urgently she presses the power button, waiting impatiently. Her hair is now touching the tip of the invisible box, but she’ll get out what she can. At least Slayers can hold their breath for longer—that’ll give her a little more time to get a message out.
For once, Sachiko wishes she’d actually tried to text better, faster, done more before, but she’d never considered it a useful skill.
It’s a testament to the strength of a Slayer that she lasts as long as she does, but eventually, fingers still, then crunch under the sheer weight of pressure.
He pauses at the gates by all the cars and glances back. The body, or what could generously be called a body, falls, the water falling around her like a sudden cartoon downpour and seeping into the ground quickly, as if it had barely ever even been there. There’s not much left, so she won’t pose a threat, and it’s not as if he left many clues as to what had happened there, anyway, so it’s not an entirely wasted trip. He smiles, but his features blur, and then he’s swallowed by the fog.
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU
Chapter Summary: Sachiko and her team investigate the old Slayer mansion...
Word Count: 2094
Rating: Teen
Note: HERE THERE PROBABLY BE BUFFY/JJBA SPOILERS. Warnings for series-typical violence and gruesome and for longer than usual chapter.
Sachiko never considered herself superstitious. Her grandmother was, putting up charms everywhere when her grandfather died, but like any teenager, she’d not put a thought to dying or danger, not until she’d been attacked by a ghost shortly before being saved by a Watcher. Even after that, though, she’d not been intimidated by the knowledge that the supernatural was real. As a Slayer, she could fight it, and save others who couldn’t fight. It was straightforward. Natural. Not a sacrifice she had to make, for if she had the ability to do something, why shouldn’t she?
But as the Watcher, a witch named Kuar with a heavy accent that she can’t identify, drives up to the mansion that a mere month ago had been their home, she feels a sense of foreboding. Every Slayer has senses beyond the five, often accompanied by visions to help them better accomplish their duty. Sent by the First Slayer, she assumes, though she’s never thought to ask before now.
She’s not dreaming, but she feels certain that they’re going to die. And yet, what would remain in these ruins? The Slaypires, if the phone conversation was any indication, had all moved on to Italy, and the group of evil lawyers had other things to concern themselves about.
Still, she tries not to show this fear in front of the others. Morale is important, as well. “We’re looking for signs of a spell. Move quiet and careful, and if you begin feeling like your mind is affected, call for Kuar or Sylvia immediately. We shouldn’t be fighting each other.” Instantly, she realizes that they’re not as prepared as they should be. They should’ve brought more magic-users, one per search group, but it’s too late now. They could call off the search, but that would hardly help morale, and they’d be far more likely to be noticed, the second time in. Cars driving down a dirt road (the back road) which only leads to an abandoned mansion at dusk are out of place enough without repeating the action. They’d looked over the map on the way, each choosing a particular location for themselves and, for the few who could, the Slayer or Watcher they were paired up with. They’re as ready as they’re going to be, and it’s the best time they’ll have for this venture, yet…
Yet trails of ice still crawl up Sachiko’s spine.
“Got it,” one Slayer replies and fades into the shadows. If she hadn’t been told otherwise, Sachiko wouldn’t have believed it wasn’t magic of some kind.
It’s just as eerie as Sachiko expects, traveling through the mission. There’s an expectant, cruel silence that’s settled over the once familiar, safe environment, so that what was a reminder of home now stands sinister and looming. She’s tempted to break the silence and begin chatting with Sylvia, just to feel the void that is threatening to consume them disappear, but she’s a senior enough Slayer to know that’s a rookie’s mistake. She says nothing, makes certain to quiet even her footsteps so that it’s as if they’ve never even been here.
They’ve been assigned the library, a massive, three-floored monstrosity in the middle of the mansion. It was somewhere that Sachiko had liked to go, near the beginning, devouring all the books she could find in English to improve her skills, the ones that she never thought she’d need from school. Now, though, it seems as if every tome will unleash an unspeakable horror, every volume filled with some kind of malevolent force.
It will also take approximately forever to search. Sylvia casts a seeking spell, just to be sure, but shakes her head dismally. “Nothing,” she whispers, and Sachiko is glad she hadn’t spoken before, because the danger seems like it’s pressing down from all sides, now.
They split up, though within sight of each other. It probably would be more useful if they took opposite sides of the room, but given how long it will take them to search, it’s more likely to be luck than anything.
With the army of Slayers and Slayer trainees that had filled this mansion, before, they could easily have finished in two hours, but as it stands they’ve taken a small scouting force and are sneaking around somewhere, by rights, that should be their home, a safe bastion against the evils that threaten. It’s a chilling reminder of how far they can fall in such a short period of time, that perhaps nothing is safe.
Sachiko shakes her head, shivering against the darkness and despair. No matter how strong evil is, they can’t let it triumph. They’re certainly not going to cringe in fear and just allow it to do whatever it wants.
Sachiko’s unsure of how long it’s been, but she’s interrupted from her quietly stacking books in order to mark where she’s searched on the shelves by a shaking voice. Sylvia’s.
“C-come look at this.”
Instantly she does, footfalls nearly silent against the floor. And stares in disgust at what’s in Sylvia’s hand.
It’s an eyeball, bloody and grotesque, complete with blood vessels and nerves. As a Slayer, Sachiko’s seen people dismembered, demons that resemble humans if they’re turned inside out, but this…
It’s still moist, which means…it’s fresh. Someone’s been here recently. She glances at the bookshelf. There’s more blood, and the blood vessels appear to have been torn accidentally by Sylvia as she retrieved it from the shelf. They trail back and lead out of sight behind the shelf, in the small space between the shelf and the wood behind it.
“Wh-who would do this?” Sylvia stammers, louder than she should be, but it’s not as if Sachiko can really blame her.
“And why?” It’s not as if it could be a warning of some kind. There’s no reason to think that anyone would find it, given that, since the state of the organ, it would have had to been placed after the mansion was abandoned, which means that the perpetrator would know no one lived here anymore. Never mind the fact that placing it behind a book in the library of upwards of two million books would mean it would be unlikely to be found, in any case…
Her instincts are screaming at her. They need to get out. Instantly, she’s struck by a thought more horrible, glances carefully at the eye color. “Sylvia, do any of the Slayers we came with have green eyes?”
The Watcher blanches and looks about ready to throw up, before reason returns a little and she shakes her head. “N-no. None of us do.”
They both nearly sigh of relief, before Sylvia has another thought. “I’m going to do a spell.” She pauses, mumbling, and almost messes up the pronunciation twice, which has Sachiko shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I…the owner of this eye is dead,” she states bleakly, beginning to shake again. “I see a corpse dumped into the sea…but…wait.” She shakes her head, looking terrified, and Sachiko tries to snap her out of it. It’s too late, apparently.
“There’s a face, too. It’s…the eyes aren’t green, but it’s like he’s also an ‘owner’ of this eye…”
Sachiko puts a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, shaking her firmly. “We need to leave. Now.”
“I think you’re right,” the girl agrees, and opens her hand once more with its monstrous find.
And, as if alive, the nerves and blood vessels suddenly move, spearing into Sylvia’s own eye as if they’re knives. She doesn’t even have the time to scream as they scoop out her own eye and begin to burrow deeper.
Sachiko immediately lets go of the girl’s shoulder, meeting the other, anguished eye before running. She wants to help Sylvia, save her, but Slayer instincts tell her that the girl is dead, and unless they leave the mansion now, the rest of them will be as well.
The time for silence is over. “Retreat!” she screams at the top of her lungs. She meets others, some confused, some horrified, running with just as much urgency. None of them question. They’ve all been trained well.
They nearly make it to the entrance, only to see a wall of water, heading in their direction. “Up!” one of the other Slayers bellows, and they go. There’s no time to worry about why it’s flooding. They need to survive and escape.
They make it to the top of the stairs, but quite a few have been dragged under the water, and Sachiko glances back to see a body, bloated unnaturally, float by.
“You need to survive and tell the Scoobies about this,” a girl whose name Sachiko guiltily cannot recall, states, and pushes her out one of the windows.
She falls, a little wet and bloody, peppered with glass, but alive. She glances up to see the water surge out of the window like it’s alive before retreating.
She tries to make it to her feet, sobbing desperately in her need to stay alive, to warn, as she hears footsteps approach. But she’s too weak.
She glances up to see a man, elegantly dressed, walks up to her. “Excuse me. Might I inquire to the nature of this building?”
She just stares at him, so he bows. “I apologize for bothering you. Have a nice day.”
He begins walking away, and she makes to get up, perhaps to drag herself along, only finds she can’t. There’s a line she can’t cross, and it’s begun to fill with water. She screams and pounds on the invisible wall, but no sound escapes.
She notices a branch on the ground and attempts to dig, but finds there’s an invisible wall there, too, and soon the water is sweeping her up higher. She pushes the bough against the “wall” hard, and with a Slayer’s strength it almost looks like she’s making it through—until she pulls it back and notices that it’s been cut cleanly. She can’t make it out that way. She reaches up and touches what feels like a ceiling. So the water will keep rising, until it drowns or crushes her.
If one of the witches was still alive, she might stand a chance. Whatever type of trap this is, the witch could possibly free her, and he looks like just a man with powers, and that’s no match for a determined, angry Slayer in close combat. Of course, there are some demons that look human, but even so, she’s seen Slayers accomplish the impossible, particularly when backed by magic.
Still, she’d known. She’d had the feeling that today was the day she would die ever since they began this trip. It’s too late to worry about dying now. But if anything she’s learned in her time with the Slayers, let alone her own personal optimism, it’s that even when heroes die, the Big Bad doesn’t have to win. She may not be able to do much, but she’s seen what Willow or even Andrew are capable with the technology and magic in their hands, and she believes with the same strength that she will die and they’ll be able to find her last, dying message.
Hopefully it’ll be enough. Hopefully they’ll win. But—no, she refuses to believe otherwise. They will win.
She pulls out her Slayer-issued phone with water-chilled trembling fingers, for once glad of the expense of the waterproof version that Buffy had insisted on. Urgently she presses the power button, waiting impatiently. Her hair is now touching the tip of the invisible box, but she’ll get out what she can. At least Slayers can hold their breath for longer—that’ll give her a little more time to get a message out.
For once, Sachiko wishes she’d actually tried to text better, faster, done more before, but she’d never considered it a useful skill.
It’s a testament to the strength of a Slayer that she lasts as long as she does, but eventually, fingers still, then crunch under the sheer weight of pressure.
He pauses at the gates by all the cars and glances back. The body, or what could generously be called a body, falls, the water falling around her like a sudden cartoon downpour and seeping into the ground quickly, as if it had barely ever even been there. There’s not much left, so she won’t pose a threat, and it’s not as if he left many clues as to what had happened there, anyway, so it’s not an entirely wasted trip. He smiles, but his features blur, and then he’s swallowed by the fog.
