CHAPTER 2
Merrick
quickly became lost in the labyrinthine passages, twisting and turning as they
did without any apparent design, and all alike.
The overwhelming crowds of screaming children, yelling parents and
shrieking teenagers roared in his ears.
The blinking lights nearly blinded him.
He was
in a California mall on a weekend, and Merrick found that he vastly preferred a
vampire-infested graveyard to this.
Yet
this was his duty, and his calling, and hopefully the fulfillment of a
lifetime’s quest. Even if he never saw a
Hot Dog on a Stick, it would be too soon.
And the less said about an Orange Julius, the better. He had never thought that something that
sweet could be that disgusting.
Still,
if he was right, if he had read the signs and portents correctly, the girl
would be here, now, in this place. Los
Angeles, California. The mall was a
large eight story structure, filled with the products of Mammon. There was even a small oil field on the
site. Yet it would be here that the
Chosen One would be found. Perhaps that
was a sign of the world that the savior would come from this decadent mess.
Merrick
clamped down his shaky eagerness, and his anxiety. The Council had been horrified when they
learned that none of the Potentials had been chosen upon the death of the last Chosen
One. It was not unheard of, of
course. Though they had the experience
of millennia, the Watchers—they who watched for the Chosen One and then
prepared her for her battle against darkness—were simply overwhelmed, as there
were too many girls in the world, and too few people to search through them to
find the right one in time.
Still,
they had been lucky for a while now. It
had been hoped that they had gotten so proficient at finding Potentials that it
would have been unlikely, if not impossible, for one of them not to have been
chosen.
And
yet, it had happened. So Merrick had
been sent to find the Chosen One and train her for combat. It was the highest honor given, to be the
Watcher for the Chosen One. The Chosen
One was the world’s savior, whether the world knew it or not. And she deserved to be remembered in history,
even if it was only a secret history known to a few. That was the gift and the burden given to the
Chosen One’s Watcher—to be their biographer until the moment of their too-soon
death.
In a
more just world, entire religions would have been built around the Chosen
One. While the normal world awaited its
messiah, Merrick was one of the elect who had seen his savior fight and
ultimately sacrifice themselves in the war against the world’s evil. It was this fierce, warrior nature which had
given the Chosen One their other name—the Slayer. Slayer of vampires. Slayer of demons. The hunter of humanity’s
predators.
As soon
as it was learned that the Chosen One would be found in America, the Council
had sent for Merrick. He was the oldest
Watcher in North America still active.
Though born in England, he had spent the majority of his life in the
North America—save for a tour in Vietnam.
Further, he had worked with many Chosen Ones, starting with the Chosen
One of the 1970s as an assistant to her Watcher.
As he
walked through the mall, scanning every teenage girl for the right one, he
thought of Bernard Crowley, the Watcher for that first Slayer he had
known. He had been devastated when his
Chosen One had died, essentially entering retirement soon after. Bernard had devoted himself to raising the
Chosen One’s son, Robin, in memory of his dead charge.
It was
common enough for the Watcher to retire upon the death of his Chosen One. Merrick could see the bonds that formed
between Watcher and Slayer, intense and intimate. Oftentimes the only person that the Chosen
One could confide in, could trust absolutely, was her Watcher. Teacher, trainer, guide—the Watcher pointed
the Chosen One towards the enemy, and then patched them up when they
returned. They were the Slayer’s only
backup in the eternal battle. It was no
wonder that the last Chosen One had taken her Watcher as her lover, though it
had of course ended badly.
He had
absolutely no plans to do the same.
Beyond the fact that he was much too old for her, he already had an
inkling of what his Chosen One needed in a Watcher, and a lover was not one of
those things. He had investigated her,
along with the other Potentials that he had discovered in his quest to find the
true Chosen One. Despite her seemingly
sunny disposition, she held a great sadness inside her. Her parents were far too involved in their
own problems, careers and social lives to be actual parents she had had to raise
herself. She had done so by finding the
largest crowd that she could, and emulating them in all respects. Yet despite trying to be as vacuous and
flighty as possible, Merrick could see the native intelligence, will and most
of all essential loneliness about her.
She had the makings of a fine Chosen One.
But
that name was ridiculous. He could just
imagine the future sniggers, as Watchers read his entry in the Watchers’
books. Yet soon enough, he was sure,
they would come to respect and revere her. If Merrick had anything to do with it,
everyone would know just how important Buffy the Vampire Slayer was.
Now if
he could only find the fool girl.
Merrick
quickly became lost in the labyrinthine passages, twisting and turning as they
did without any apparent design, and all alike.
The overwhelming crowds of screaming children, yelling parents and
shrieking teenagers roared in his ears.
The blinking lights nearly blinded him.
He was
in a California mall on a weekend, and Merrick found that he vastly preferred a
vampire-infested graveyard to this.
Yet
this was his duty, and his calling, and hopefully the fulfillment of a
lifetime’s quest. Even if he never saw a
Hot Dog on a Stick, it would be too soon.
And the less said about an Orange Julius, the better. He had never thought that something that
sweet could be that disgusting.
Still,
if he was right, if he had read the signs and portents correctly, the girl
would be here, now, in this place. Los
Angeles, California. The mall was a
large eight story structure, filled with the products of Mammon. There was even a small oil field on the
site. Yet it would be here that the
Chosen One would be found. Perhaps that
was a sign of the world that the savior would come from this decadent mess.
Merrick
clamped down his shaky eagerness, and his anxiety. The Council had been horrified when they
learned that none of the Potentials had been chosen upon the death of the last Chosen
One. It was not unheard of, of
course. Though they had the experience
of millennia, the Watchers—they who watched for the Chosen One and then
prepared her for her battle against darkness—were simply overwhelmed, as there
were too many girls in the world, and too few people to search through them to
find the right one in time.
Still,
they had been lucky for a while now. It
had been hoped that they had gotten so proficient at finding Potentials that it
would have been unlikely, if not impossible, for one of them not to have been
chosen.
And
yet, it had happened. So Merrick had
been sent to find the Chosen One and train her for combat. It was the highest honor given, to be the
Watcher for the Chosen One. The Chosen
One was the world’s savior, whether the world knew it or not. And she deserved to be remembered in history,
even if it was only a secret history known to a few. That was the gift and the burden given to the
Chosen One’s Watcher—to be their biographer until the moment of their too-soon
death.
In a
more just world, entire religions would have been built around the Chosen
One. While the normal world awaited its
messiah, Merrick was one of the elect who had seen his savior fight and
ultimately sacrifice themselves in the war against the world’s evil. It was this fierce, warrior nature which had
given the Chosen One their other name—the Slayer. Slayer of vampires. Slayer of demons. The hunter of humanity’s
predators.
As soon
as it was learned that the Chosen One would be found in America, the Council
had sent for Merrick. He was the oldest
Watcher in North America still active.
Though born in England, he had spent the majority of his life in the
North America—save for a tour in Vietnam.
Further, he had worked with many Chosen Ones, starting with the Chosen
One of the 1970s as an assistant to her Watcher.
As he
walked through the mall, scanning every teenage girl for the right one, he
thought of Bernard Crowley, the Watcher for that first Slayer he had
known. He had been devastated when his
Chosen One had died, essentially entering retirement soon after. Bernard had devoted himself to raising the
Chosen One’s son, Robin, in memory of his dead charge.
It was
common enough for the Watcher to retire upon the death of his Chosen One. Merrick could see the bonds that formed
between Watcher and Slayer, intense and intimate. Oftentimes the only person that the Chosen
One could confide in, could trust absolutely, was her Watcher. Teacher, trainer, guide—the Watcher pointed
the Chosen One towards the enemy, and then patched them up when they
returned. They were the Slayer’s only
backup in the eternal battle. It was no
wonder that the last Chosen One had taken her Watcher as her lover, though it
had of course ended badly.
He had
absolutely no plans to do the same.
Beyond the fact that he was much too old for her, he already had an
inkling of what his Chosen One needed in a Watcher, and a lover was not one of
those things. He had investigated her,
along with the other Potentials that he had discovered in his quest to find the
true Chosen One. Despite her seemingly
sunny disposition, she held a great sadness inside her. Her parents were far too involved in their
own problems, careers and social lives to be actual parents she had had to raise
herself. She had done so by finding the
largest crowd that she could, and emulating them in all respects. Yet despite trying to be as vacuous and
flighty as possible, Merrick could see the native intelligence, will and most
of all essential loneliness about her.
She had the makings of a fine Chosen One.
But
that name was ridiculous. He could just
imagine the future sniggers, as Watchers read his entry in the Watchers’
books. Yet soon enough, he was sure,
they would come to respect and revere her. If Merrick had anything to do with it,
everyone would know just how important Buffy the Vampire Slayer was.
Now if
he could only find the fool girl.