Shadows over London
11.45pm GMT, London, January 24th, 1984. “Coz I am an Anarchist, And I, Am the, Antichrist!” The discordant warbling of the sex pistols song seemed to be following Spike as he wandered down the deserted London side streets. Identifiable by their smell if nothing else. Good thing he didn’t have to breathe. He was actually getting worried until he figured out it was his own voice. He had definitely drunk too much. He always did when he was depressed. But he’d gone all day without thinking about…Spike mentally kicked himself. Ever since Dru left him for that Fyarl demon he had hired as security Spike found himself getting wasted way too often. “Well what the bloody hell am I meant to do!?!” Spike realised he was talking to an empty street and staggered on. He also realised he still had a bottle in his hand. This cheered him up. He drained it and as an after thought threw it at a sleeping tramp. The shatter of the glass cheered him up more than the beer had. Lately he’d even been to depressed to eat properly…. EAT! Spike suddenly realised he hadn’t fed all night. He turned in time to see the tramp scurry around a corner and away into the night. Not worth the chase. Spike thought about the wine bottles of blood he had in the fridge in case of emergencies. Nah, not that desperate yet. Cold blood never tasted as good as fresh. There was still plenty of time left to get a meal. Spike rounded the next corner and forgot about all the time he had. Walking down the street away from him was a man who was obviously completely oblivious to the dangers of walking through London at night. A vampiric meals on wheels. Moving from shadow to shadow Spike moved in for the kill. The man turned a corner into a dead end. Spike grinned and his brow contorted into his demonic reflection of himself. Spike moved around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. The man put his foot against the end wall and casually began to walk up it. “That’s new.” Spike began to wonder about the quality of the beer when the man walked over the top of the wall and off across the rooftops. Spike began looking around desperately. He found what he was looking for in a rusted fire escape. It looked older than the building but Spike scaled it with practised ease. His leather duster flapping behind him. He’d done this to many times. He hardly made a sound as he pulled himself up onto the rooftops. Spike crouched behind a chimney and scanned the roofs for his quarry. He spotted him running along the tile-clad roofs and into the night. Spike stood to chase after him but felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder. He turned and saw the man he had just saw running off right behind him, then his vision blurred as he was slammed backwards into the chimney. Spike felt bricks shatter beneath his shoulder blades. He hoped it was the bricks that shattered. “Alright, alright! Bloody hell man, Curiosity, cat and all that rubbish okay?” The man stepped back. Spike looked him, wondering if he could jump forward and take him. He moved and brick dust fell from his hair. Probably not. The man was tall, lean. His suit impeccable. His dark hair slicked back and his angular features contorted into a scowl. Definitely the same man who had been running over rooftops 200 yards a second ago. How the hell could he move that fast. Spike remembered seeing him and feeling his hand at the same time. No one can move faster than light and it was definitely the same guy. Spike was starting to think he was in trouble. “Follow us again Vampire and we’ll really have to hit you.” With that he half turned and…..Vanished!? Spike stood up painfully and brushed his duster clear of brick dust. “Well that was bloody odd. What the hell was he?” Spike had never seen anything like that. He’d seen a lot of weird demons but never anything like that. Damn, thought Spike. He lowered his head in resignation. “Dalton.” “Why should I help you? You never appreciate me and you keep hitting me?” Dalton was gathering together his books to leave the bookstore, nervously pushing his glasses up onto his nose. Spike stood in the way of the door. “You’re going to help me because I’m going to hit you if you don’t.” Spike leaned in close to Dalton who looked away at the floor, trying to hide from his gaze. “Threats of violence won’t work this time Spike.” Dalton was going to stand his ground on this one. Spike ginned and picked up one of the books from the pile Dalton was carrying. “Tell you what then, how about I use threats of arson and we get on with this thing?” Dalton looked up horrified, “You wouldn’t?” “I’m a bloody demon. Of course I flipping would! Now are you gonna help me or not?” Dalton slumped resignedly into a chair at the rear of the bookstore and swept all the lesser volumes to the side. He pulled up huge, leather bound, encyclopaedias of demonology. “So tell me again what you saw.” Dalton was flipping to the index of the first book. Spike recounted exactly what had happened, a little annoyed that Dalton hadn’t listened the first time. When Spike finished he turned and saw Dalton sat there with an open mouth, staring at him. His hand was still holding the book open to the index. “What?…. What have I done now?” Dalton closed the book hastily and ruffled through a pile of every older books. Spike looked at a few of them and started to think that some of these ‘leather’ bound books weren’t made of cow hide. They were bound in human skin. “What you encountered wasn’t any demon or vampire it was something far worse!” Dalton found the volume he was looking for and slammed the heavy book onto the table. The title was in Latin but Spike quickly translated. “Saints, angels and the fallen? Are you saying that bloke was a saint?” Dalton shook his head and carefully explained what the talking about a ‘we’ and ‘us’ meant and the bi-location, two places at the same time, and what it meant the man was. Spike snatched up the ancient Vatican text and strode out of the bookstore. Ignoring Daltons whining and instinctively stepping over the corpse of the bookstore owner and the pool of blood surrounding him. So….A fallen angel. And the mighty Legion at that. The guy had even been in the bible. What could have happened to make him fall again. And more importantly what didn’t he want Spike to see if he followed him. He was going to have to find out….. That’s all I’ve written so far. If you like it mail me and I’ll write the rest and post it soon. But this is mainly a starter to get you writing your own stories. Mail ‘em to me at the address on the main page and I’ll post ‘em if they’re any good. Have fun. Legion. ;)
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