Title: HOPE HOUSE
Paring: Primarily S/X with a very minor S/OCs.
Rating: NC17 Adult Reading
Disclaimer: The Bee has no claim on any of the characters or
products named in this story and receives no profit from anything.
Warnings: Adult language, Prostitution, Violence, strong sexual
content. NOTE: All the boys working in Hope House are over
the age of 18. The Bee does not do underage!
Summary: Long after the final battle of Sunnydale, Xander is
alone, his life in shambles. Is there anywhere he can go and anyone
who can give him hope? There just might be.
As always, kudos to Petxnd for the wonderful banner.
Xander lay back, confined and restrained. He stared at a spider that was
making it's way slowly up the far way and he wondered idly why they called
them grandaddy long legs. Well, yeah, he got the long legs part because they
did have long, thread like appendages, but it was the grandaddy part that always
stumped him. He guessed now he would never have the chance to find out.
He had long ago blocked out the endless yammering of the boy who had
conked him on the head and dragged him down here to be chained up and
served as chum for the fucking and feeding frenzy pleasure of the Wendeego.
It seemed a bit hypocritical of him to be angry at the perceived betrayal. After
all, hadn't he done the same to Spike? Lied to him, stabbed him in the back
and tricked him? No, Xander was not angry at Jack, just disappointed in
himself for his stupidity and in mankind in general.
"Hey! Fuckhead! You listening to me?"
Jack kicked the side of the small cot, jarring it and shaking Xander back to the
here and now. Calmly, he turned his head to face his attacker.
"Ya know, you are about to cause my ears to rot and fall off with all that bull shit
you are shoveling. If you are going to go, why the hell don't you do it and leave
me in peace?"
Jack was dumbfounded.
Didn't this dimwit know what his situation was? It wasn't like Jack hadn't just gone
into great, extensive detail explaining it. Why wasn't he terrified? Why wasn't he
screaming in denial at the existence of monsters and demons? Jack couldn't stand
it. He decided that maybe he hadn't been graphic enough and resolved to try again.
"Now, see here! Wendell is a beast! A monster! An evil demon! Yeah, sure
he can be a barrel of laughs when he ain't FUCKIN' THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!
Don't you get it? Don't you know.........."
Jack's continued explanation was suddenly interrupted by a rumbling sound on the
other side of the small trap door at the far wall of the basement. Within seconds,
the door rattled and Jack jumped to his feet with a wide grin on his face.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I think that's my signal to go. So, without
Jack bowed low at the waist and winked before turning on his heel and rushing for
the narrow stairway that led to safety. Xander sighed. He watched the retreating
boy as he disappeared up the steps. Somehow, he had always known he would
go like this. Chained up in a decrepit mansion waiting to be eaten by a bloodthirsty
demon. Lately, he had imagined that demon would be Spike but the circumstances
would be a bit on the more erotic side.
But then things took a turn toward the odd. Not that this situation, in itself wasn't
leaning toward the 40's definition of queer.
The rattling of the wooden door could now be heard in stereo. Two locked doors
being pounded on in an attempt to be forced open. Two voices screaming their
outrage at their restriction. Craning his head as far to the side as he was able,
Xander couldn't see to the top of the darkened steps, but he could hear Jack
who was beating his fist on the door and shouting profanities. Like a faulty
old time record player, he repeated the same lines again and again.
"HEY! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! LET ME OUT!
HEY! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR! LET ME OUT!"
Before Xander had time to wonder, the small cubby hole entrance at the far
side of the room exploded, sending chunks and splinters of wooden door spraying
all over the room, some landing on Xander's restrained body, as he flinched and
turned his head protectively.
Then, he turned his head back. Even in the dim, light deprived room, Xander could
see it. The Wendeego.
Standing well over 7 foot tall, it's skin glowed a sickening grey color that seemed
to roll and ripple from head to toe. It's huge long arms were hair covered and
hung nearly to what should have been knees. It's entire body was grossly
misshapen and hunched over.
But the worst, the most terrifyingly familiar feature, was the face. The head was
cone shaped and gigantically out of proportion even for the size of the body. The
eyes bugged bulbously and shown blood red as they stared into Xander's. The
mouth hung open and when it screamed it's ear piercing, high pitched screech, it
displayed a double row of razor sharp fangs that evolution had honed and refined
for flesh rending.
It was exactly as Xander remembered it from that night in the graveyard. It was
the same mask of terror that had haunted his nightmares for the past year. He
had, countless times, wondered what had gone through his father's mind when
he faced this creature at the time of his death. He wondered if the old man
knew it was his son's fault that he was meeting his end in such a horrific manner.
Xander knew it was and he assumed this was the very definition of payback.
He blocked out the frantic screams of the boy at the top of the steps. Jack was
no longer his concern. He squeezed his eyes shut and strained every muscle of his
body against the straps that held him to the small bed as the monster slapped his
paws on the cement floor and continued to squeal something that almost sounded like,
Xander refused to cry. If his death saved Jack, it was worth it. He tried to
focus his thoughts on his friends and family, but their faces were almost impossible
to recall. The only one that came in bright and clear was Spike.
He latched onto that image and held it, refusing to let go even when the Wendeego
bumped it's clumsy body against the cot. He whimpered and, despite himself a
violent shudder wracked his body when Wendell hung over him, sniffing and
snuffing. When the first blob of hot slobber hit Xander on the forehead, his
bladder shamefully released itself, soaking his jeans with acrid smelling urine.
So he waited. Anticipating a painful death, he wondered if the monster would
kill him here or take him away. He almost hoped it would be somewhere else.
He didn't want Spike to find him like this.
Finally, when it seemed that way too much time was passing in his wait for
a gruesome death, Xander peeked one eye open only to flinch at the confused
demon who hung just inches from his nose.
Just then, Jack let out another bellow of desperation that caused Wendell to
bolt upright, his head snap to the side and his red eyes flash like a bolt of
lightning. Xander's panic shot even higher.
"NO! Leave him alone! Take me!"
Wendell had already forgotten the puny, foul smelling human on the bed and he
zeroed in on his newest possession, his pet, his fuck toy. His target. Throwing
his head back, he again let loose an ear piercing squeal.
And he barreled, stumbling toward the steps as Xander struggled and strained,
shouting after him.
"NO! Stop! Get out of here! Leave him alone, you prick! You bastard!"
Xander pulled and jerked till the leather cut into his skin as he watched
helplessly while Wendell reached for the boy in the steps. Xander sobbed
as he listened to Jack struggle, curse and fight for his life. Despite the fact that
Xander knew Jack was a killer, he was still human and Xander was still
a white knight.
Xander's ears tracked the demon and it's prey as they returned. He wanted to
again close his eyes but, like a car wreck on the highway, Xander had to see.
He watched as the demon returned and passed by him as though he didn't exist.
Jack was slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He continued to sob
As they disappeared through the dark, cavelike opening Xander slumped back,
defeated. He had failed. Again. Repeatedly, his lips whispered.
"Jack. Jack. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
And the boy and the monster were gone.