Pairing: S/X, W/O, B/R
Rating: NC17 (Graphic Violence, Character Deaths)
Disclaimer: I own none, all belong to Joss Whedon
Comments: Always welcomed!
Summary: A killer is hunting the teens of Sunnydale High, killing them one by one in their dreams.
Warnings/Spoilers: A rip off from all the Freddy Movies, does not belong to me. Please don’t sue! Italics indicate dreaming. Also if you haven’t watched any of the movies be warned the ending is always lame, so be warned now.
Beta’d by: Dragonfly_64
Willow’s eyes drooped shut as she sat at her computer while she tried to work on a history paper that was due next Wednesday. Usually she would have already been done the assignment but with kids from her school slowly getting murdered her attention was on that. Her last thought before falling asleep was that she hoped that they could find a way to get rid of the monster.
She was the only one in the amphibian exhibit at the zoo. Willow didn’t know what made her go in there since she was deathly terrified of frogs. She looked around for the exit but there didn’t appear to be one. Taking a deep breath she decided that she might as well take a look around. Maybe she’d learn something new, she loved that and maybe it would take her mind off the frogs.
Willow quickly learned that the entire exhibit was frogs. There were tons of different species of frogs from tree, aquatic, exotic, and even some endangered ones.
“Aren’t they lovely?” A young man asked standing behind Willow starting her, “Such beautiful colors.”
“Oh goddess!” Willow cried her hand over her chest. “You startled me, do you know the way out of here? I’m not much of a fan of frogs they really creep me out.”
The man didn’t answer her as he picked up a multi-blue coloured frog no bigger then five centimetres. “Did you know the Dendrobates azureus frog is posionous? Of course the poison usually paralyzes its victim only sometimes killing them.”
“That’s, that’s good to know.” Willow stammered her eyes glued to the small frog. “Maybe you should put it back so you don’t make it mad.”
“Don’t worry, little red riding hood. Nothing can kill me,” His eyes locked with Willow’s as his features shifted back to his own face.. “You on the other hand.” He chuckled as he set the small creature on the ground.
Willow took a step back as she realised she was dreaming, “I-it’s you. The one from my dreams, the one that killed Cordelia and Riley.”
“And the one that’s going to kill you; don’t forget.” Angel answered; then he tsked. “This just isn’t going to do. At this size it isn’t promising it will kill you. I’ll just have to fix that.” As he spoke the frog began growing, it only stopped when it was two feet tall. “That’s better’ isn’t it?”
Turning around Willow ran looking for a door or a window, maybe even a vent. The floor shook as the deadly frog bounded right after her.
“Go on, Kermit!” Angelus cheered, “Kill the little bitch.”
A pipe was laying on a crate that was marked ‘food’. Grabbing it up she held it like a bat getting ready to swing it. There was no way out except waking up. An idea struck Willow, moving her hand half way up the pipe she held out her other arm. Taking a deep breath she brought the metal pipe down hard across her arm breaking the bone.
Willow woke up screaming in pain, her arm broken and already bruised; she had never been so happy for pain.
Spike scrolled through yet another website about Angelus Kruger. He had been looking for two hours and there was new information. With a sigh he was just about to close the page when he found something interesting. There was a link that could direct him to the victims. Double clicking, he waited for the page to load.
Spike’s eyes widened, there had to be at least fifty names. He decided to go through the names to see if maybe something popped out. Half way down the list a name caught his eye, “Wesley Giles?” He whispered and clicked on the name. There was a picture of a boy no older then six. He had short brown hair and blue eyes. In the picture he had a giant smile on his face as he played with race cars. There was a short article underneath.
‘Wesley Giles born July 18th, 1978 was abducted from the front yard of his home on September 21st, 1983. His parents Rupert and Olivia Giles pled to the community for any information on the whereabouts of their only child. Three days later his body was found by a 21 year old jogger that was running in the woods just outside of town.
The police searched the woods for any evidence leading to the killer. A rookie officer found a cabin in the woods. When investigating he found a set of bloody knifes, not knowing any better he picked them up contaminating any evidence that was on them. They found out that the cabin belonged to Angelus Kruger and arrested him. When the trial had finished the jurors found Kruger not guilty, as a result of the mistake the officer made of touching the evidence, letting him walk free.’
Spike printed out the page before confronting his father. He walked into his father’s study and slammed the piece of paper down in front of his father. “What is this?” Spike demanded to know.
Rupert looked at the picture all the color drained from his face, “Where did you get this?”
“I asked you a question!” Spike yelled.
“Wesley, he was your older brother,” Rupert answered his fingers stroked the picture.
Spike’s legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor, the last couple weeks were too much for him. Rupert was at his side kneeling beside him. “We only moved here last year.”
“After your brother died,” Rupert’s voice wavered. “Your mother and I decided to go back to England.
“I would have been three when he died. Why don’t I remember him?” Spike asked his head spinning.
“You were much too young,” Rupert explained tears filling his eyes.
Spike shook his head, “Why did we move back her than?” He demanded to know.
“After your mother died I started having nightmares about Wesley. That it was my fault for what happened. I began seeing a therapist and they told me that I needed to confront my past. So we moved here
Spike sat there hyperventilating, “Angelus killed Wesley didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Rupert answered pulling his son into a hug. “But he is dead as well. He got what he deserved.”
“You did it?” Spike pulled away staring at his father. “You killed him.”
“I had to,” Rupert said. “He took our son and because of that incompetent officer he walked! The other parents and I were not going to just do nothing, so he could go off to another town and do what he did to other children.” He explained, “Your mother was so devastated. She wanted to give up, she became depressed but it was you that kept her going. You kept us both going.”
Spike remained quiet, sending a silent pray to the brother he couldn’t remember and to his mother that died two years ago in a car accident. He realised he was getting off track, “Da’ I have to tell you something and you have to believe me.”
“Of course, son, you know I will.” Rupert encouraged him to go on.
“Angelus is still killing people,” Spike said. “I don’t understand how but that doesn’t matter. He has already killed two kids from my school through their dreams.”
Rupert stood and moved away from Spike, “William, he is dead! He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
“How do you explain this then?” Spike ripped his shirt open showing the four scratches, “Do you honestly think normal finger nails could do that? Are you telling me they don’t look like bloody knife cuts? That’s what he used when he killed and tortured those kids, wasn’t it? How he killed Wesley?” Spike said, “And you killed him and now he is killing us.”
“That isn’t possible, William,” Rupert said, “I know it is hard when people you know die but you can’t blame that on someone that is already dead.”
The phone rang and Spike grabbed it up, “What?” He barked to the caller; he needed to make his father believe him. “Xander?... Wait what?... Slow down!...Willow, is she alright?....I’ll meet you at the hospital.” He hung up the phone and walked out of the room.
“William, what happened?” Rupert asked, following Spike out into the foyer.
“Willow fell asleep,” Spike answered pulling on a jacket. “Angelus tried killing her. Believe me or not, I don’t sodding care.” And he opened and closed the door as he left the house.