Thirteen Ghosts belongs to William Castle.
BtVS to Mutant Enemy and Whedon.
The house was an architectural marvel, beautiful even with the light layer of evilness permeating the air.
Dawn followed the slayer squad inside, Willow casting at the front of the procession, illuminating the intricate spellwork done on the glass floors and walls. Every word she’d utter made the spells glow blue, activating the protective side of them and disarming the traps.
The lightweight helmet, courtesy of Andrew and the rest of the R&D department made it easy to take in three hundred and sixty degrees of vision without any of the nausea and dizziness normally involved in such a feat. A green button allowed the visor to switch over to what Faith had dubbed as the ‘magic cam’, a device that showed any ghosts or paranormal phenomena present.
They reached the library, the broken rings of the Ocularis Infernum lay near a gaping hole in the floor. Willow clucked as she crouched down, “Cyrus, Cyrus- you’ve been a very bad boy.”
Faith stood beside the kneeling witch, her first line of defense once Willow would start cleaning up the dark magic practically flooding the area from the broken Eye of Hell. “You knew this guy?”
Willow straightened up, she brushed the long olive skirt she was wearing, slowly inspecting the broken device she told the others “I met him once. At Rack’s. Cyrus was jacking up on power even then. Should have known at the time, but I was a little too strung out to care.”
Everyone present knew Willow’s history, the magic addiction, the rocky path to redemption. Faith nodded and shouldered her weapon, “how long till we can get out of here? I’m getting a wig just breathing the air coming out of the hole.”
“I’m going to start cleaning up right now,” the witch told her. Immediately Vi joined Faith’s side, the two slayers assumed alert positions as they stretched their senses for any threat.
The oldest slayer in the room motioned to Dawn, “D? Come here a sec?”
Dawn stood next to her, leaning a bit to Faith’s height she listened.
“I’m getting a ghost in the next room, nothing evil- just super vigilant,” Faith told her.
Dawn nodded in understanding.
The slayer narrowed her gaze, “you got your weapons?”
Dawn nodded and opened her jacket. The arsenal stashed on her body would have given any law enforcement types a heart attack had she not been carrying permits for every piece of weaponry on her. Two mystical short swords behind her back. Stakes on thigh holsters, a gun that Andrew had personally developed to dissolve plasma, a dagger sheathed in each of her long boots and a Glock 45 in a shoulder holster.
She had a little more weaponry than a slayer on account of not having any supernatural abilities besides her amazing capacity to get kidnapped every Tuesday.
Faith grinned “good girl. Go get our boy.”
Dawn saluted her and turned away. Rona followed her at a discreet distance.
The ghosts were rumored to have passed on, but the Ocularis Infernum was still drawing evil energy like a miniature, man-made Hellmouth. Hence their current expedition to close it.
Plus they had a pickup to do.
They moved down the rooms, Rona stiffened suddenly and Dawn whipped out both of her guns. She had long ago learned to listen to the slayers by her side, their supernatural warning system was really above and beyond anything man could come up with.
A young, blonde guy was standing in the hallway next to the library. He looked kind of pissed staring at her with confusion as he tried to make sense of who she was and what her intentions were towards the house.
Dawn kept the plasma gun pointed on him, trying to defuse the situation she smiled.
The guy grinned back at her and she realized just how hot he was. Even with the bloody wound.
“Dennis Rafkin?” she asked him.
The guy stiffened considerably and answered, hostility and suspicion practically seeping out of him.
Dawn lowered her weapon and smiled widely at the strongest psychic and empath in the Western Hemisphere. He still hadn’t passed on to the afterlife and that meant that Willow would have a chance at bringing him back.
“I’m Dawn Summers, head of Research for the International Watchers’ and Slayers’ Council,” she took out her ID and held it out to him. “Go ahead, take it. Ghosts can touch it, and you’ll be able to get a feel for whether I’m lying or not.”
Dennis looked at her for a few moments, gauging her intentions. He then sighed and shook his head, taking a few steps towards her he quickly snatched the ID off her hand.
A look of intense concentration combined with a blissful spaced out grin passed on his features.
He regretfully gave the ID back to her. “Say I believe you. What do you want from me?”
Dawn hid the little card back in her wallet, she smirked at him eyeing the ghostly man with poorly concealed interest. “We want to offer you a job.”