the demon who looked like the bloke from that "Cabaret" flick, whom I thought we could trust

Love this!

The Resurrection Gambit

Part Ten: Will

Chico, CA, 2023: Brother Daniel could hear his fellow monks stirring even over the din of Radiohead’s Karma Police. Curious, he turned down the stereo and left his chambers. The others were watching something in the distance, something silhouetted against the moon.

One monk wondered aloud if it were an angel, and certainly, it was beautiful enough to be, but Brother Daniel was very much an expert on things not being what they seemed to be. Whatever this was, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Inside his chest, he felt the beast stirring.

Whatever it was, it was fully visible now, hovering above the monastery, sparks jumping from its feet, moonlight glistening of its skin.

“Where is the boy?” it asked, in a voice that brought several of Brother Daniel’s companions to sobbing.

“Bring him to me, or I will reduce this place to cinder.”

The other monks began to quiver and retreat, but Brother Daniel seized a crucifix from around his neck and held it before him, defiantly. The Juris cocked his head at the sight of it.

“These things do not frighten me, wolf.” it said. Brother Daniel edged forward. The other monks glanced at him in disbelief.

Brother Daniel weighed his decisions. Whatever this thing was, it could raze this building in minutes. The others had no chance against it. Moreover, he was unwilling to turn over the acolyte who’d been warded to him all these years, though he was hardly what one would call a boy anymore.

“Huh,” he thought. “I suppose it’s all relative.”

Brother Daniel dropped the crucifix and let the wolf emerge. The Juris was expressionless as it leapt for him, teeth snarling. The other monks—who knew about his curse, of course, but whom had never seen it—began to run. The Juris swatted the wolf away effortlessly. Brother Daniel bounced as he hit the ground, stunned and certain he could feel ribs sliding inside. The Juris moved in for the kill.

“Wait!” said a voice, and the Juris stopped in mid air, head turning to see who was interrupting it. A man stood before him, dressed in a monk’s robes. Although the man was approaching 40, he seemed younger. His face was still fresh, his hair shaven.

“Leave Brother Daniel alone,” said the man. “I’ll speak to you, but there will be no violence.”

“You were once called the Destroyer,” the Juris stated plainly. “You are the son of the vampires Angelus and Darla.”

“That was a lifetime ago,” said Connor.

Brother Daniel morphed into a human again, and attempted to stand. Not quite ten years ago, Wesley Wyndham Price had brought a confused Connor here, to help him find himself in the wake of discovering his past life and the death of his real father. In that time, he had truly become a part of the order, dedicating himself to the virtues of inner peace and enlightenment.

“Don’t,” said Connor, not taking his eyes off the Juris. “I don’t think it’s here to harm me.”

The Juris looked almost amused at that.

“You should not exist,” it said.

“And yet I do,” replied Connor.

The air between the two of them crackled with tension. Brother Daniel readied himself for another attack.

“You’re an ancestor of mine, aren’t you?”

"Of sorts. You are the child of two of mine.”

“Maybe. Or, I’m the child of a drunken lout and a syphilitic prostitute, neither of whom really got a chance in life. Take your pick.”

“I had to see you myself,” said the Juris. “See you with my own eyes. You…”

“Am alive,” said Connor, not unkindly. “For all your power, you can’t create life. And yet…”

The Juris lowered itself to Connor’s level, and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Your father would have destroyed us all. He would have upset the balance.”

“I know. He died doing it.”

“And now the circle starts again. I cannot allow it. And yet…”

Brother Daniel tried to fathom the expression on Connor’s face. It looked like compassion.

“We hunt. We destroy your kind. We delight in it. Are we not evil?”

“Perhaps,” said Connor. “I used to think so. Now I’m not so sure I believe in such things.”

Connor and the Juris stared silently at one another. Brother Daniel couldn’t help but wonder if Connor knew something he didn’t.

“Free will,” said Connor. “There can’t be evil if it’s not freely chosen.” The Juris seemed to consider this.

“Go in peace,” said Connor.

As suddenly as it had arrived, the Juris left. Connor stood placidly, watching it ascend.

Holy fucking shit, Victor!

Holy fucking shit.

I love love LOVE Oz and Connor as monks!

I love love LOVE Oz and Connor as monks!

Heh. Thanks. I made a joke some time ago about Connor becoming a pacifist and joining a monastary to spite his father, so the idea's been floating upstairs for awhile. Glad it had a chance to work its way in.

Brother Daniel! I totally didn't catch it! I love you!

Brother Daniel! I totally didn't catch it!

Not when he wolfed out? The Radiohead? The "Huh"?

So. Perfect.

I figured, 20 years on and in that setting, only old friends like Xander called him "Oz."

Oh, yes, I got it at the wolf, of course... I thought it was weird that a monk would play Radiohead, but, you know, I shrugged it off. I mean I didn't automatically have Daniel=Oz.

Oh, yes, I got it at the wolf, of course... I thought it was weird that a monk would play Radiohead, but, you know, I shrugged it off. I mean I didn't automatically have Daniel=Oz.

I thought it was weird, too, but then, I also figured if any monk would, it would be Oz.

Yes, it makes perfect sense that Oz do would it.

(edit - good lord, I wonder why I even bother to pretend that I can compose a coherent sentence)