001 [Holo] Arrival
Wesley had gone through plenty of brushes with death. Bleeding out of his jugular in the park came to mind, or fading out on the couch of the shelter after being shot. What he'd experienced in Cyrus Vail's house, however, was not a brush, and he knew that. His vision had blackened. The pain had faded into a numb cold. What magic ran in his blood had seeped away with his lifeblood.
And now he was standing here, in what looked like the set of some science fiction movie, and seemed to be very much alive.
"Hello?" he ventured softly, looking around carefully. He considered his options. He could be in Hell. That seemed likely, given his life.
"Lilah?" he tried, frowning. "Eve? Lindsey? If this is a game, I'd prefer we get straight on to the flames and eternal torment." He waited. No response. They might be playing with him, but Wesley suspected that if Lilah was behind this, she would have taken the opportunity by now to let him know who his tormentor was.
Perhaps the rumors were true, and condemned Watchers had their own private hell where they were punished by their superiors. As far as Wesley knew, his father was still alive, so he tried other names. "Mr. Travers? Mr. Cornwell?" The machinery above him suggested some sort of experiment, and that seemed very much like the old Council. "Hello?"
There was a pad, of some sort, on a pedestal, and underneath it was . . . no, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Wesley reached out to touch it and frowned at the bracelet on his wrist. Definitely something experiment-like, or perhaps more like a zoo? "Is anyone there?" he called again, before stepped forward and glancing down at what looked like one of those fancy touch-screen phones.
He felt as though it were looking back at him . . .
And now he was standing here, in what looked like the set of some science fiction movie, and seemed to be very much alive.
"Hello?" he ventured softly, looking around carefully. He considered his options. He could be in Hell. That seemed likely, given his life.
"Lilah?" he tried, frowning. "Eve? Lindsey? If this is a game, I'd prefer we get straight on to the flames and eternal torment." He waited. No response. They might be playing with him, but Wesley suspected that if Lilah was behind this, she would have taken the opportunity by now to let him know who his tormentor was.
Perhaps the rumors were true, and condemned Watchers had their own private hell where they were punished by their superiors. As far as Wesley knew, his father was still alive, so he tried other names. "Mr. Travers? Mr. Cornwell?" The machinery above him suggested some sort of experiment, and that seemed very much like the old Council. "Hello?"
There was a pad, of some sort, on a pedestal, and underneath it was . . . no, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible. Wesley reached out to touch it and frowned at the bracelet on his wrist. Definitely something experiment-like, or perhaps more like a zoo? "Is anyone there?" he called again, before stepped forward and glancing down at what looked like one of those fancy touch-screen phones.
He felt as though it were looking back at him . . .