All right folks, this is your first and only warning. The following fanfiction is ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING!

       It's sick, demented, and spawned from the twisted mind of Sam Raimi, of whose idea I am stea-uh…borrowing. I've taken license where I've seen fit, so it's not completely faithful to the Great One himself, but…hey, close enough.

       Most of this story is filled with gratuitous violence, severed limps, several characters' deaths…and hands that have an inclination to kill anything that moves, biting…and not in the fun, sexy, growly Spike way, severed limbs, gratuitous violence, accidental indigestion of eyeballs (SERIOUSLY!), one pencil used in a way that your school teachers would very much disapprove of…and a few sexually adventurous shrubs. If you've seen Evil Dead, Evil Dead 2 or Army of Darkness…you might have an inkling of what I'm talking about. And are probably already going, HELL YEAHS! I'm going to continue!

       THIS STORY IS SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK!

       Oh, and if you have any sort of emotional attachment to any given Scooby or any of Spike's appendages, I'd turn back now.

       Seriously. Go back. Read Castaway again. Or Pride and Prejudice, if you're underage. If you're underage, you've should've already turned back (Stern look) Like I don't know you guys don't listen to warnings anyway. (Sighs) BUT I WARNED YOU, FUTURE FLAMERS! THIS STORY IS BADDDDDDDD! BBBAADDDDD Not for ANYBODY'S eyes.!

       Okay, enough with the warning already. On to the story!

Part One

       Legend has it, that a certain book was created by the dark ones: Necronomicon Ex Mortes. Roughly translated: The Book of the Dead. The origin of the Book is traced back to the day when the dark ones ruled the Earth. The seas ran red with blood, and it was with this blood in which the Book was written.

       The Book of the Dead was last seen in 1300 A.D., when the dark ones rose up to battle the living. It is said assistance came from the sky, heroes that defeated this evil and buried the Book in the Castle of Kandar…and there it lay for 700 years…waiting, till it was discovered centuries later, stumbled on by a historian. He and his wife went into seclusion to study and translate the Book of the Dead…and were never heard from again.

       Till now…(Stop thinking in really creepy narrator voice...NOW!)

       "Jesus Christ, Spike!" Buffy wrinkled her nose, shooting her boyfriend a disgusted look, "Seriously…did you slaughter something in this piece of crap and leave it to rot?"

       "I knew we should have taken my van," Oz muttered in the back seat,

       "Okay, one, my car is not a piece of crap," Spike shot Buffy a look, "It's a classic 1958 DeSota Sportsman. Get it right. And two," He shot Oz a look over his shoulder. "We took my car because I wouldn't fry to death because the Slayer decided to open the sun-roof for a bit of fresh air. Besides…s'not like your van smells like roses, Wolf. You'd have to sandblast the damn thing to get the scent of you and Red out of it. And three…my car wouldn't smell this bad if the Slayer hadn't decided the back seat was a good place to stash the body of a Kaek demon for three weeks without telling me."

       Willow flushed a deep red, as Cordelia's eyes widened, "Spike! This is a two hundred dollar designer dress! You could've told me there was a demon rotting on the upholstery BEFORE I got in the car?!"

       "I said I was sorry," Buffy sulked, jutting out her lower lip, "I forgot!"

       "Right…you forgot about the two hundred pound demon in the backseat?" Spike asked, making the mistake of looking towards Buffy as he said it, and any anger dissolved when he saw her pouty lips, "Dammit, woman…you know what that does to me…"

       "Oh, God," Xander covered his eyes as Buffy giggled and leaned towards Spike, "Hey! Man! Watch the road! Want to get there in one piece!"

       Spike rolled his eyes, turning back to the road as Buffy sighed and leaned against his side, and his arm dropped from the back of the seat to drape over her shoulders, "Whelp, are we gettin' any closer to this place, or what?"

       "You know…it'd be easy to tell if I could see out the damn windows," Xander pointedly rapped his knuckles against the paint-covered glass with a scowl.

       "Oh…give me the bloody map," Spike let go of the wheel, leaving his arm draped around Buffy, causing all the mortals in the car to pale in terror.

       "Spike!" Buffy grabbed the wheel as he settled back in his seat with the map in hand, and he scowled down at the jumbled words and hand-drawn lines on the grease splattered napkin, taking the wheel back from Buffy before she could kill them.

       "This is your map?!"

       "Hey! My dad had to draw it from memory, give him a break," Xander replied, hands gripping the back of the front seat now, knuckles completely white. Someone was going to have to pry them off with a crowbar.

       "Your dad…oh, bloody great…" Spike snorted as he dropped the map in his lap, squinting out of the paint-streaked windshield. He saw a dirt road coming up, with a faded, broken sign on a post; the sign had leaned far over to the side, but he could make out the pale, squiggly writing that said `Bridge Road'

       He turned onto it, following the long dirt track that could hardly be called a road, weeds springing wild all over the place. He saw the bridge in question approaching, and he slammed on the brakes abruptly, tossing everyone forward in their seatbelts, except Buffy, who he had a firm grip on.

       "OW!" Cordelia rubbed her forehead, shooting the blond vampire a look, "Great. Now I have waffle marks on my face. I hope you're happy."

       "Harris, when's the last time someone's bloody well been up here?" Spike asked in annoyance, ignoring Cordelia's outburst.

       "Uncle Rory rented it to some guy and his wife a month ago…why?"

       "The bloody bridge looks like it's about ready to fall over!"

       "It's fine. It's always looked like that," Xander assured him, "It's safe."

       Buffy leaned over Spike to peek out the windshield, hand very deliberately landing on his crotch, and he stifled a groan as she flexed her fingers, eyes flashing amber at her, "Vixen," He whispered, and she grinned at him before looking back out the window, eyes widening.

       Said bridge was very much in disrepair, at least, in her opinion. Several boards were missing from different parts, and it was listing dangerously to one side, spanning over a huge chasm, "I really don't want to go over that."

       "The bridge is fine," Xander huffed, "Stop pussing out, Spike and just go already."

       Spike narrowed his eyes, and Buffy groaned as she fell back into her seat, buckling herself back into her seatbelt. Not that it would help her much if the bridge collapsed and plunged them all to their deaths two hundred feet below. Cordelia smacked Xander's arm and Willow leaned forward to glare at him from around Oz. "Great, Xander…if we die `cause you dared Spike to cross the Bridge of Death…I'm going to kill you."

       Xander didn't comment on the futility of that particular threat, instead, he rolled his eyes and enjoyed the way Cordelia pressed into his side, her eyes wide as they started to cross the rickety bridge. Spike was leaning forward over the steering wheel, concentrating on getting across with unlife intact, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the other side.

       "See? What did I tell you?" Xander said smugly, "Perfectly safe."

       Spike shook his head in annoyance as he continued down another dirt track, eyes searching for the turn-off to the cabin. It was an hour before he finally saw another dirt road, with a deer skull on a post being used as a road marker. Buffy had dozed off against his shoulder, a bit of drool running out of the side of her mouth and onto his duster, and he grimaced as he nudged her awake gently. "Right, kiddies, looks like this is it," He said, turning into the long, winding drive-way.

       "Finally!" Cordelia straightened, "God…I so need a hot shower right about now. The damned stink has to be sticking to my skin by now."

       "This is going to be great," Willow started to bounce in place beside Oz, sending her boyfriend a brilliant smile, "Out in the woods by ourselves; hiking, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, singing campfire songs…"

       "Shaggin' like rapid ferrets on rufies…"

       "I like Spike's plan better," Xander replied, earning another swat from Cordelia, and he shot her a guilty grin.

       "Gee, Spike…real romantic," Buffy said sarcastically.

       "Fine…shaggin' like rapid ferrets on rufies…in front of the fireplace with champagne, on the skin stripped from a poor, defenseless bear."

       "Wow…I didn't even know it was possible to suck ALL the romance out of that cliché love scene," Willow observed, "But you did it."

       "I have many talents," Spike glanced at Buffy as he said this, biting his tongue between strong, white teeth and waggling his eyebrows.

       "Yeah," Buffy said breathily, several of those talents spring immediately to mind, her face flushing, but not with embarrassment.

       "Great…I would never have agreed to come if I knew this weekend was going to turn into the Spike and Buffy sexcapades," Cordelia groused.

       "Luv, wherever we go, it's the Spike and Buffy sexcapades," Spike admitted unashamedly, and Willow's mouth dropped open.

       "That's why you were in the bathroom at the Bronze for an hour!" Willow accused Buffy, who looked towards her guiltily, "I can never use it again!"

       "You still use Harris' pool table."

       "You had SEX on my pool table!?"

       "NO! We didn't!" Buffy glared at Spike, "Right?!"

       "Uh…right…just kidding," He said without even a tiny bit of sincerity.

       "You're buying me a new table!" Xander complained, "It's only six-months old and you already defiled it!"

       "You can't defile a pool table," Spike argued, "Didn't defile the hot tub, now did it?"

       "Spike, just…shut up," Buffy glanced at Cordelia, who was going red in the face, since it was her hot tub in question.

       "You're cleaning it," Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest, scowling, "God…is there anything you guys haven't had sex on, under or around?!"

       "Oh, look! We're here!" Buffy threw the door open as soon as Spike stopped the car, and the vampire yelped, scrambling back as the car was flooded with light. "Oops! Sorry, honey," she slammed the door shut again, safely on the other side.

       Oz handed Spike his blanket, which he covered up with as the other kids climbed out of the car, and Oz gave him a look, "You're never allowed near my van."

       "Too late," Spike muttered beneath his breath as Oz climbed out. He drew the blanket more firmly around himself before getting out as well, frowning slightly when he didn't hear any bitching, or arguing. He glanced towards Buffy, who was staring in the direction of the cabin, eyes slightly wide, and he followed her gaze, nearly groaning.

       "Harris! You idiot! You said this was a nice place!"

       "It was," Xander said lamely, staring at the broken-down cabin in some disappointment. He hadn't been there since he was eight, but he seemed to have remembered it looking larger…and more livable then. The porch of the cabin was missing several boards; the porch roof was sinking in some spots, and the swing had broken one chain, the others holding on by sheer will alone. Tattered, frayed white curtains hung in the windows, which were missing several frames of glass. The woods pressed in around them on all sides, rather closer to the cabin then he remembered. The only real clear spot in the yard was near the tool shed, about fifteen feet from the cabin. "Maybe it looks better on the inside…"

       "It'd better…or I'll be forced to rip your spine out through your nostrils," Spike growled as he went around the car to pop the trunk, grabbing he and Buffy's duffel bags and slinging them over his shoulder before heading up towards the porch, carefully placing his feet down, so not to fall through the rotted wood. The others grabbed their bags in silence, either too shocked or disheartened to rip Xander a new one like Spike wanted too. He had been promised a weekend in a cabin out in the woods, rustically romantic setting. Instead, he got a cabin which looked like it would be better off with the company of a few oily rags and matches.

       Xander and the others joined him on the porch, carrying overnight bags and groceries; Xander leaned over to unlock the door, grunting in frustration when the key wouldn't turn in the lock, "Damn it!" He punched the door as he straightened, and then Spike snorted as the door collapsed inward, making Xander jump as it crashed against the floor with a hollow thud.

       "Smooth move, Whelp."

       "Shut up, Spike," Xander sighed in exasperation, shaking his head as he bent to grab his bags to go into the dark interior of the cabin. He nearly screamed when a loud crashing sound came from his left, everyone else jumping as well. The porch swing was swinging back and forth on its three chains, erratically jerking after having slammed into the side of the cabin. He glanced towards everyone else, who was staring at the swing, a little freaked out looking, Spike included. "Aww…is Spikey-wikey scared of a little wind?" He taunted, and Spike glared at him, and sent a pointed look towards the trees, whose leaves weren't even rustling a tiny bit.

       "What wind?"

Previously on The Evil Dead:

       Xander's an idiot, Spike's horny, Willow's blushing, Oz is kinda quiet, Cordelia's bitching, and Buffy felt up Spike's crotch. (What? Like you don't want too? Please.) Also, there was a big, creepy bridge, Xander accused Spike of pussing out, a pool table and hot tub were defiled, the cabin REALLY sucks and the porch swing has a life of its own, but nothing really squicky has happened yet. You are now lulled into a false sense of security.

Part Two

       "Aw, come on, guys, it really isn't that bad…"

       Everyone glared at Xander, save for Spike, who was too busy trying to repair the door, the toolbox they had found out in the shed open beside him. Every available surface of the cabin was covered with a fine sifting of dust, there was a notable lack of furniture that was wasn't torn with stuffing sticking out of it. Unidentifiable stains marred the wood of the floor. They had least found out where the boards from the porch had gone. The windows had been boarded up…from the inside.

       "When we get home, me and Uncle Rory are going to have words," Spike growled from beside the door. He hadn't even looked at the other rooms yet, but he didn't think it'd be very promising. He didn't even want to know what the beds looked like.

       "Okay, so, Uncle Rory hadn't been up here for a few years…but the people he rented the cabin too didn't complain…" Xander frowned, "But they took off without paying him…"

       "Gee, I wonder why," Cordelia sniffed, "Could be the place was a freaking dump and they turned around the second they saw it? Like we should do?"

       "Does anyone really feel like getting in Spike's car for another six hours?" Xander asked, and was met with silence, "Didn't think so. All right, so, the cabin's a little disappointing. But, hey! It's all about the adventure, right?" That was met with silence as well, and Xander groaned, "Come on! This weekend is only going to suck if you let it suck! But hey!" Xander pointed towards the fireplace, "We light a fire, sit down, talk, cuddle with our respective partners…pretend that we don't see Spike trying to stick his hand up Buffy's shirt…and it's all good, right? All romantic…and…shit."

       Cordelia sighed when Xander looked at her with a hang-dog expression, "Sounds great," She said half-heartedly, but he immediately brightened.

       "All right, then!" Xander clapped his hands together, "Oz and I can chop wood, while you girls get the marshmallows ready?"

       "Door's fixed…just don't be pounding on it," Spike said as he straightened, and Xander grinned.

       "See? The weekend's already looking up! The manly men will make fire for our women, and we have a door!"

       "Yay," Buffy pumped her fist in the air, but Xander didn't seem to notice the sarcastic overtones to her voice as he shot her a smile as he and Oz headed out the door. Buffy shook her head as she looked around the cabin, "Well, at least we don't have to worry about Spike getting any sun exposure," She gestured at the boarded up windows, "That's one worry taken care of already."

       "Yeah…but kinda strange, innit?" Spike asked, glancing at the windows, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Don't you board up windows to protect the glass? So…why would someone board up the windows from the inside?"

       "You ever meet Xander's Uncle Rory, Spike?" Willow asked, twirling a finger near her temple, "He's not all there upstairs. Plus, he has a little bit of a drinking problem…"

       "Maybe so…doesn't explain why he'd rip up the porch to cover the windows though…"

       "Who cares? It's done so we don't have too," Cordelia replied, grabbing up a grocery bag and heading towards the kitchen.

       Spike shook his head in irritation, but smiled as Buffy wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. "Stop being such a worry-wart," She advised him, "Okay, so the cabin isn't as romantic as Xander made it sound…but that's never really stopped us before, right?"

       "Damn straight," Spike turned in Buffy's arms, leaning down to kiss her, but was startled by Cordelia screaming. He immediately broke off with her and raced towards the kitchen, Willow and Buffy on his heels. He ran into it to see Cordelia screaming her head off, backed up against the counter, her grocery bag lying on the floor.

       "Rat! It's a rat!" Cordelia shrieked at him, "Kill it!" Buffy abruptly turned and fled the kitchen with a yelp, and Willow peered around the doorframe, carefully remaining out of the near vicinity of the vicious rodent.

       Spike peered into the corner where was pointing, a dark spot between the oven and old-fashioned fridge, and indeed, he could see something furry in there, but it wasn't moving. He glanced around the kitchen, and saw a broom propped up against the counter near Cordelia, and grabbed it, carefully nudging the ball of fur out. When it was nearly out, he apparently poked it a little too hard, and the body burst open, internal organs spilling out onto the floor, and he gagged at the scent the suddenly filled the entire room. He backed away, grateful that he didn't need to breathe as he started to look around for a trash bag with which to dispose of the body.

       Cordelia covered her nose with a groan, eyes fixated to the rat's body with morbid fascination, and she nearly screamed when she saw the body jerk suddenly, its head turning a bit in her direction, black, eyeless holes staring up at her, "OH GOD! It's still alive!" Spike whirled to see that the body was indeed wriggling, and Cordelia screamed again, backing away from the moving rat. "It's a zombie!"

       "Calm down!" Spike snapped at her as he finally found a trash bag, and he approached the rat again, holding his broomstick like a weapon now. He carefully poked the dead animal. Cordelia turned about six different shades of green when the head suddenly burst open with a sickening pop and a torrent of writhing, pale maggots poured out, along with ropey, half decomposed strands of gray matter. Cordelia spun, staggering back into the main room, with a revolted moan.

       Spike grimaced as he carefully swept the dead animal and parasites into the bag, very firmly wrapping it up. He shoved it into a trash can near the backdoor, shuddering a tiny bit. He may be a vampire…but even maggots managed to gross him out, big time. At least he could assure the girls there were no other rats in the house. They were cannibalistic little buggers, and would have been all over their friend like Xander on a box of Ho-Hos.

       He returned to the girls, to see them holding their overnight bags to their chests, eyes wide. Cordelia was sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, looking fairly traumatized. "We are soooo not staying in the house with zombie rats!" Buffy said shrilly, "We're going home!"

       "Luv, it wasn't a zombie…just had bugs in it…" Okay, that didn't help to reassure his girlfriend any, since her eyes had gone even wider, and Willow's face had gone a whiter shade of pale. "There's no more rats, all right? They would have eaten him if there were. Promise."

       "They're probably in the cellar," Willow said, pointing towards a trapdoor in the floor he had failed to notice before, "What if there's more down there?"

       Spike sighed, "I'll go down and check for `em, if it'll make you feel better," He told them, crossing the room and kneeling beside the trapdoor. He frowned slightly, "Buffy? Be a pet and hand me the hammer? Door's been nailed shut…"

       "Ew! No! Leave it like that then," Buffy shuddered, "At least they can't get up if it's nailed shut."

       "What's down there, you think?" Willow asked, calming down a little bit, feeling better that the trapdoor was nailed shut. She couldn't explain it, but knowing that it couldn't be opened made her feel…safer. "Why would someone nail it shut?"

       "Ladder or stairs rotted out, most likely," Spike told her, straightening, "Keep people from going down there and hurting themselves," He nodded his head at Cordelia, "Is she all right?"

       "I'm fine," Cordelia answered, shaking her head slightly, "Just don't ask me to go into the kitchen anytime soon, and I'll be even better." She jumped, nearly screaming when the door suddenly slammed open.

       "Harris, you git! I just fixed that thing! I told you not to do that!"

       "Sorry," Xander laid the ax he had slung over his shoulder next to the door, and frowned when he looked around at everyone, seeing the looks on the girls' faces and the way Cordelia was holding her knees tightly to her chest. He dropped his load of wood near the fireplace, "Okay, what happened?"

       "Dead rat," Spike said simply, "Not a pretty sight."

       Oz came in with his arms full of wood as well, "Dead what?"

       "The girls got freaked out over one little dead rat," Xander replied in a teasing voice, only to be met with death glares from aforementioned girls, and wisely refrained from further comment on the subject.

       "Just light a fire, Whelp," Spike grabbed his duffel and a sleeping bag, glancing towards Buffy with a raised eyebrow.

       She hurriedly grabbed up her bags, and grinned abashedly at the looks her friends shot her, "We're…just going to get our bedroom ready, we'll be right out."

       "Right," Cordelia snorted as their bedroom door slammed shut, "More like christening it."

       Xander rolled his eyes as he knelt before the fireplace, packing it with the wood they had cut and old newspaper. For good measure, he took the bottle of lighter fluid and doused it liberally.

       "Uh…Xander? Isn't that a bit much?" Oz asked as he backed away from the fireplace.

       "No way…you can never use too much lighter fluid," He struck a match, and tossed it in. He yelped, scrambling backwards on his hands as it lit up with a `WHOOMPH!', a fireball shooting out towards him, nearly singeing his face. "SHIT! Now that's a fire!"

       The bedroom, Spike was heartened to see, wasn't as in bad a shape as the rest of the cabin. The mattress smelled a bit like mildew, but not enough to bother Buffy in the least. He heard Buffy come in behind him, and he smirked as he unfurled the sleeping bag, and laid it across the bed before she could see the somewhat dubious stains on it. She might refuse to sleep on it if she saw them, and there was no way he was spending the weekend on the floor.

       Buffy dropped her overnight bag by the door, smiling almost evilly as she watched Spike carefully spreading the bag over the bed, and then removed his duster, tossing it towards a chair in the corner. He turned to face her, but a startled cry was wrenched from him as he was shoved backwards. He bounced against the mattress, and Buffy was immediately crawling on top of him. She grabbed his hands before he could try and touch her, and pinned them over his head, leaning downwards to kiss him heatedly.

       "Hmm…" Buffy broke the kiss, panting a bit, "Dead rats and creepy swings aside…this could be a pretty nice weekend."

       "That's the plan," Spike replied, not even bothering to try and make her give up her position above him. He loved it when his girl went the forceful route. "Out in the middle of nowhere…no one can hear you scream, you know…"

       "What about the four other people in the next room?" Buffy asked, letting go of his hands to slowly unbutton the dark blue shirt he was wearing, exposing his smooth, hard chest.

       "Sod them…might learn a thing or two from us," Spike told her, grinning wickedly. Buffy frowned down at him, deciding he was far too cocking looking at the moment. She lowered her mouth to his chest, doing a fair imitation of his famous smirk when he gasped as she not so gently closed her teeth around his flat nipple.

       She loved the sounds he made as she licked, kissed and nibbled on the skin of his chest; whether it was his sharp inhalations of breath he didn't need when she sucked on his skin, leaving hickey marks wherever she went, or the small whimpers and subdued snarls when she teased him by dipping her tongue into his navel, she loved them all.

       Spike watched as she slowly unzipped his jeans, her eyes on him the entire time, eyes twinkling with a glint of mischievousness as she reached inside, watching as he closed his eyes with a groan as her fingers enclosed around his hard length and drew it out. They immediately flew open when he felt her hot, moist mouth sliding over him.

       "God, baby…" He moaned, "No one sucks cock better then you…" He frowned, lifting his head when Buffy's mouth suddenly disappeared, and he stared up at her in confusion when he saw her glaring at him, hands on her hips. "Why'd you stop?"

       "God, Spike…you're…so…so romantically retarded, it's not even funny," She groused.

       "I thought you liked it when I talked dirty," He said in genuine bewilderment…and a little bit of pain as he started to edge into blue ball territory.

       "Yeah…but…" She pouted, which wasn't helping him any, "All you do is talk dirty…you used to say…really sweet things to me."

       "Yeah…but then you started sleeping with me, so what was the point?" He laughed as she swatted his stomach.

       "I'm serious!" Buffy protested, teasingly closing her fingers around him again, stroking him in feather soft touches that made his stomach start to quiver, and she pressed her lips against the vibrating muscles. "You used to recite poetry…and Shakespeare to me. And this whole weekend is supposed to be all about the romantic…and what I get is `no one sucks cock better then you?!'"

       "Fine..." Spike smiled at her wickedly, and his face took on a thoughtful cast, "Let's see…romantic…romantic…hmmm …" She didn't trust the look on his face on little tiny bit, and she squeezed the hard flesh in her hand in retribution. However, it had the opposite effect she intended since he moaned loudly, eyes clouding slightly. She let go of him once again, and he looked up at her with a tortured look. "Aw…luv…"

       "Fine,' She sighed, "But you better be making big with the romance later…"

       "Pet…go back to what you were doing, and I'll bloody put on a dress and sing love ballads in front of the entire gang."

       "Watch out…I might hold you to that." She warned him, but any sarcastic reply he had to that was lost in the sound of his moans as she returned her mouth to its `rightful' place, and he fisted his hand in her blond hair.

       He squirmed against her, even though her hands were braced against his hips in an attempt to hold him still, broken pants and strung-out phrases that really made no sense. Okay, she loved that about him too…the second she put her mouth on him, he went completely incoherent, and he made the cutest little growls and snarls when she swirled her tongue in all the right places and raked her teeth over his rigid staff. His body started to shake as he neared release, and cried out as Buffy's took him down to the root, his hand tightening his grip on her hair as his eyes rolled back in his head as he came.

       His semen dribbled out of the sides of Buffy's mouth as she carefully let his cock slip out from between her lips. Spike trained his somewhat glazed eyes on her as he watched her very deliberately swallow when he was looking at her. She turned an amused glance down as his cock hardened again almost immediately. There was another thing she loved about him. Very quick recovery time.

       She stood up as he started to kick his jeans off of his legs, eyes on her as she started to strip off her clothes. She let her blouse drop to the floor before sliding her pants down her legs, and as soon as they were off, Spike reached out and snaked an arm around her waist, jerking her onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

       He had his head between her legs, working diligently towards her second orgasm when the screams started.

Previously on The Evil Dead:

       We discovered that Xander has a promising career in arson, Cordelia was attacked by a zombie rat, (Well, not really) Spike was still horny …and completely squicked by the maggots, Oz was quiet…again. Uncle Rory's a raving loony and probably an alcoholic, (Someone needs to do an intervention for Uncle Rory. Seriously. I'm worried about him, man.) Trapdoors are scary, even when nailed shut, and there was gratuitous acts of violence against wood. Buffy apparently sucks cock better then anyone else, Spike's romantically retarded and possibly has to don a dress to sing love ballads later for getting a blow job. (We all think Buffy is crazy now. I mean…COME ON! You've seen Spike, right? Eh...never mind. She did worse to him in exchange for sex in Season Six.) However, that didn't keep them from getting up to the naughty stuff, which was interrupted by screams. WHEW. That was a long chapter.

Part Three

       "Xander! You're such an IDIOT!" Cordelia glared at her boyfriend as she hugged herself, but he didn't seem to hear her as he was laughing his ass off, still holding the brown, tattered sock in his hand. He had thought it'd be hilarious to throw it at her and Willow, screaming, `Oh my God! It's a demon rat!'

       She wondered if he'd think it was funny when she forced him to sleep in Spike's car for the rest of the weekend. He was WAY wrong if he thought he was getting ANY ever AGAIN!

       They all looked up as Spike burst out of the bedroom, hair, usually so carefully slicked back, now a wild mass of unruly curls. He was shirtless, and his jeans were zipped, just barely, but he hadn't bothered to button them. Of course, Willow and Cordelia both stared at him, mouths gaping open.

       Xander immediately stopped laughing when he saw Spike, even paling a bit when the blonde's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Um…hey, Spike…"

       "What in the soddin' hell is going on out here?!" He snarled at Xander angrily, as Buffy came out the bedroom, looking as tousled as Spike. She rolled her eyes as Xander stammered out a lame answer, and plopped onto the floor beside Cordelia and Willow, raising an eyebrow when she saw they were ogling her boyfriend.

       "He threw a sock at us and said it was a demon rat," Cordelia tattled, and Spike growled loudly.

       "Cordy!" Xander whined, and grinned sickly at Spike, "Sorry, man…wasn't thinking…"

       "Harris, you little shit…if you ever interrupt us like that again, I will rip the top of your head off and scoop your brains out with a spoon…" He whirled and went into the bedroom. Two seconds later, he was back, staring at Buffy, who was now roasting a marshmallow on a stick Cordelia had given her. "Um…luv…?"

       "Put a shirt on, honey," Buffy replied wearily, "I'm so not in the mood anymore."

       Spike shot Xander another deadly look before heading back into the bedroom to grab his shirt, and Xander wisely scuttled to as far away from Buffy he could get, but still reach the marshmallows and fire. Spike was not a happy camper…literally.

       Spike came stomping out, a petulant look on his face as he collapsed next to Buffy, grumbling as he took the stick she handed him, and savagely speared a marshmallow, shooting a pointed look at Xander as he did so.

       "Okay…okay, I got one…" Xander grinned, taking a healthy swig of his beer before looking at Spike, "Okay…this one's great…Willy told it to me when I got the beer. So, a vampire walks into a bar…"

       Oz groaned, "Not this one…"

       "Shut up, you'll ruin the punch line," Xander said, holding up a hand, "Okay, so a vampire walks into a bar…and orders a glass of warm blood…"

       "Is that the joke? I don't get it…" Buffy frowned from her position between Spike's legs. She was leaning against his chest, wrapped up in his duster; when night fell, the temperature in the cabin had dropped pretty suddenly, and everyone, save for Spike was now wearing either sweaters or sweatshirts, despite the fire's warmth. She held a can of lukewarm beer in her hand, grimacing every time she took a sip of it. Despite not liking the taste, she was well into her third one; probably hoping, like everyone else, the cabin's condition would improve with inebriation.

       "No, it's not the joke," Xander huffed, "I'd finish it if you guys would stop yapping…" He shook his head, "Anyway, a vampire walks into a bar and orders a glass of warm blood. Then a second vampire walks into the bar, and orders a glass of warm blood as well…then Spike walks into the bar…" Xander grinned evilly when Spike looked at him sharply, "And orders a glass of warm water…"

       "Why am I in this joke?"

       "Hey, don't blame me, Willy told it to me…and probably because you're British," Xander replied, narrowing his eyes at Spike, "Now, do you wanna hear the rest of it or what? All right, so Spike walks into the bar and orders a glass of warm water…and the bartender's confused, and he asks Spike, `Why did you order warm water and not blood like the other vampires?' `Because,' Spike replies, pulling a used tampon out of his pocket, `I'm having tea.'"

       "EEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" The three girls squealed in disgust, as Xander practically fell over backwards, he was laughing so hard. Even Oz had started to chuckle at the look on Spike's face.

       "I'm going to break the little snitch's face," Spike scowled down at Buffy, who had started to giggle, and then he smirked evilly, "Don't have to do that anyway…get it straight from the source…"

       Buffy abruptly stopped giggling when her friends looked towards her with wide eyes, and Xander had stopped laughing to stare at Buffy as well. "Okay…now that's gross, Buffers."

       "Spike, you are such a dick," Buffy smacked his chest before wriggling out of his duster and stalking towards the kitchen to get another beer, grumbling beneath her breath the entire way. "Stupid, big-mouthed vampires who don't know when…" The rest of her tirade was cut off as she entered the kitchen.

       "Spike, that was so mean," Willow swatted his arm, "She's so going to beat you up later."

       "Maybe not," Spike looked in the direction Buffy had gone in, and then at Xander, who was adding more wood to the fire. Oz had gotten up to head into the kitchen to grab another drink as well. Spike grabbed his coat and dragged it towards him. "I got it," He said in a low voice, and Willow's eyes widened as she watched him remove a small, black box from his duster pocket.

       "Oh, my God, Spike…" Willow gasped as he popped it open, drawing Cordelia's attention towards them, "Wow…it's…um…wow."

       "Oh…my…Gawd…" Spike jerked in surprise when Cordelia grabbed the box out of his hand, to stare down into it, "This is from Tiffany's!"

       "Shhh!" Spike hissed at her, "Keep it down," He snatched the box back from her, glancing down at the solitaire diamond ring with the white-gold band. It reflected the firelight, fiery beams of orange playing inside it. He snapped the box shut, and slipped it back into his duster before Buffy could return to the room, looking up at the other girls, "Was going to do it this weekend…but this hellhole wasn't exactly what I had in mind for the atmosphere…"

       "Well…it's the thought that counts…" Willow said unsurely.

       "Red…it's a proposal…not a crappy present you get from your Aunt Edna for your birthday. It was supposed to be sipping red wine by the fireside…not exploding rats, mildew and Harris' comedy hour. Knew I shoulda sprung for the bed and breakfast by the seaside."

       "With a rock that size, you could propose to her in a dirty porta-potty, and she'd still say yes," Cordelia said, looking a little starry-eyed, "Hell…I love Xander, but if you handed me that thing, I'd say yes."

       "Well…you'll be my back-up if she says no," Spike joked, despite the nervous look that briefly crossed his face, which disappeared when Buffy appeared again with Oz, beer in hand.

       She scowled at him, but still plopped onto his lap, causing him to wince as she put all over weight on a particular sensitive part of his anatomy; probably purposely. "Putting on a bit of weight, aren't we, baby?" He teased, but then kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, "Like my Slayer all plump and curvy…and succulent…"

       "You would, you freak," She mumbled, but he caught the faint, pleased smile that flashed across her lips, despite her attempt to at least look like she was still pissed at him. He smiled and rested his chin on top of her head, his arms wrapping around her firmly.

       "Okay…" Xander clapped his hands together excitedly when everyone was together and settled once more, "Who wants to tell scary stories?"

       Spike groaned, "Who died and made you cruise director?" He asked, "Scary stories? You're in the room with a vampire, a Slayer, a witch and a werewolf…and you want to tell scary stories? What story could possibly faze us?"

       "Telling scary stories is a camping tradition," Xander said firmly, "We have to do it."

       "You know what else is a camping tradition? Chasing half naked girls through the woods with knives…but I don't see you suggesting that."

       "Spike…he's talking real camping traditions, not the ones on the cheap, B-horror movies with bad lighting, horrible special effects and actresses who are chronically unable to keep from tripping when someone's chasing them you seem to love so much," Buffy told him, rolling her eyes, "And I'm so not happy that you think about chasing half-naked girls through the woods with cutlery."

       "Aw…luv…you're the only girl I'd chase half-naked through the woods with pointy weaponry," Spike promised, and she smiled up at him, giving him a peck on the corner of his mouth.

       "You know," Cordelia wrinkled her nose, "What you guys find romantic…scares the crap out of normal people."

       "So? What do you say, guys? Scary stories?" Xander grinned, and then jumped when a crash of thunder sounded, fairly close by, and Spike looked up as the lights flickered. "Whoa…talk about great timing."

       Spike sighed as the lights flickered again as more thunder rolled above them, and then there was a sizzling sound as the lights finally gave up and died, plunging the room in darkness. "Bloody hell…"

       Willow looked upwards at the dead lights, waiting for them to come back on, feeling a thread of panic move through her. "The…the power lines aren't down, right?"

       "Doubt it," Spike glanced at Willow, noting that her heart rate had sped up considerably, and her face appeared deathly pale in the firelight. "Sounded like a fuse just blew."

       "So…we can get the lights back on?" Cordelia asked hopefully.

       "Oh, come on, we'll fix them in the morning! This is the perfect atmosphere for scary stories!" Xander replied, but Oz glanced at Willow before hugging an arm around her and pulling her close.

       "Naw, man…let's just get the lights on," Oz replied, ignoring Xander's petulant look, "Where's the fuse box?"

       "In the cellar," Xander replied, sighing in defeat as he stood up, and went to dig around in one of the bags till he found a flashlight and flicked it on. "Who wants to do the honors?"

       He shined the light towards Spike's face, and the vampire flinched, bringing up an arm with a growl. "Get that out of my eyes before I shove it up your soddin' arse, Harris!"

       "Jeez…you are one cranky vamp."

       Spike rolled his eyes as he gently dislodged Buffy from his lap, not seeing the wide-eyed look she gave him, "You guys can't go in the cellar! The rats are down there!"

       "There's no rats," Spike said, sighing, "Would have heard them by now if there was any," He grabbed the hammer from the tool box and knelt down by the cellar,  shoving the prongs down into the crack between the door and floor and gave it a hard wrench, the nails giving with a screech.

       Willow chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Spike lift the trapdoor, and Buffy went towards her boyfriend's side, "Spike…screw the fuses…we'll…we'll just go to bed, all right? We'll change them in the morning…"

       Spike looked up at her, and then glanced towards Willow and Cordelia, who had drawn closer together, looking terrified out of their minds. "It'll take me five minutes, tops," Spike told Buffy, "Might as well do it now," He moved to the other side and wrenched the nails loose from that end as well.

       He pulled the door open, and Buffy stepped back with a gasp as a wave putrid, hot air rushed out of the opened cellar; despite the warmth of it, goose bumps broke out all over her skin. She leaned forward and peered into the darkness as Spike took the flashlight from Xander. He shined it down into the darkness, and Buffy's body shuddered convulsively when the light didn't even to semi-pierce the shadows of the cellar.

       "Hey, pet…" She looked up, smiling wanly when Spike smirked at her confidently, "Five minutes…promise."

       "Right," She muttered beneath her breath, taking a deep breath as Spike carefully started down the rotted stairs, clasping her hands in front of her and twisting them together, "Five minutes…"

       She still felt a flutter of dread despite his assurances as she watched the blackness swallow her boyfriend completely.

Previously on The Evil Dead:

       Xander's still an idiot, Oz had spoke in like…three whole sentences, a sock tried to kill Cordy and Willow. (Not because it was demonic…it was on Xander's foot all day. Believe me…it was frightening to them.) Xander's not getting any for the next millennium, gratuitous violence against marshmallows, and to the disappointment of all, getting drunk off their asses didn't make the cabin look any better. Spike was the butt of a gross joke, and Buffy stormed off for more beer when Spike turned the joke on her…and then he showed Willow and Cordelia a HUGE ass rock. A diamond, for those of you who are skimming ahead towards the smut and violence. Yes, I know you're doing it. I know all. Cordelia wants to marry Spike now and apparently thinks porta-potties are romantic (She's been with Xander for WAY too long) and Spike promised that he wouldn't chase after a half-naked chick with a knife, unless it was Buffy. (Awwwwww! That's practically a proposal right there.) A storm blew up suddenly, (Spppoookkkyyy) and the power went out (Even Spookier). Spike bravely volunteered to go down into the Cellar of Death to change the fuses, while we all screamed at the screen, `No! You idiot! Don't go into the cellar! It's nailed shut for a reason, moron!' Hell…I'm writing this crap, and even I screamed that at the screen!

Part Four

       "Where is he?!" Buffy peered down into the darkness below, the feeling of dread compounding itself, "He's been down there for ten minutes!"

       "Relax, Buff," Xander was sitting on the broken down couch, nursing a beer, "He's probably can't find the extra fuses."

       "Then he should have come to the bottom of the stairs and told us!" Buffy snapped at Xander, "I'm going down after him…where's a flashlight?"

       "We only brought one," Willow spoke up sheepishly, "We…we didn't think we needed them, since this place has electricity."

       "Great! Xander, I thought you were a boy scout! Didn't the `always be prepared' thing stick with you?!" Buffy asked sarcastically, "Or does that only apply as far as the extra box of twinkies?"

       Xander blinked in surprise at her outburst, and Willow got up to wrap an arm around Buffy, hoping to reassure her, "Buffy, I'm sure he's fine…it's not like there's anything in the cellar that's going to eat him…" I hope, she added in her mind, trying hard to keep the smile plastered to her face. Frankly, she was just as worried as Buffy, but she didn't want to facilitate her best friend's fears. "Xander's right…he's probably just can't find the fuses…"

       Buffy shook her head, breaking away from Willow to lean over the trap door and call into the cellar. "Spike! SPIKE!" It felt like the darkness consumed her voice, not allowing it to travel, but she was sure he should be able to hear her. It wasn't like it was all that big a basement. "SPIKE! Answer me, damn you!"

       She lifted wide, panicked eyes up to Willow when he still didn't answer, "Something's happened to him…"

       "Hey…" Oz appeared beside them, holding a lit lantern, "Uncle Rory did something right, at least."

       Buffy moved to grab it from him, but he stepped back, shaking his head, "I'll go down," He said, flickering his gaze towards Willow and Cordelia pointedly. Xander was looking rather unaffected by the whole thing, but the other two girls were looking even more freaked out then before. He moved down the steps before Buffy could protest, and into the shadows themselves.

       "Spike?" Oz frowned as he reached the bottom of the stairs, eyes narrowing as he attempted to see through the darkness. No one answered him, and he sighed as he moved farther into the basement, looking around curiously, nose wrinkled against the musty, mildew scent that covered permeated it.

       There didn't appear to be much down there, except entire loads of junk; at least there weren't rats that he could see. "Spike? Come on, man…this isn't funny…Buffy's having a fit upstairs, and she's going to beat the crap out of you if you don't cut it OUT!"

       Something bright suddenly flared, right near his face, and Oz flinched away instinctively, staggering to the side, dropping the lantern on the dirt floor. He ran up against a shelf along the damp wall, and jerked with a sharp intake of breath when a pale face leapt up at him, teeth going for his throat.

       Oz batted it away with a shout, losing his usual composure, and he nearly screamed as he slammed backwards into a hard wall of flesh, arms grabbing onto his shoulders.

       "Whoa, mate! Calm down! It's just me!"

       "Jesus…" Oz tried to calm his erratic breathing as Spike let go of him, "Don't do that to me…" He glanced at the `thing' that had tried to eat him, nearly groaning when he saw the deer skull that he had slapped down to the floor; the bright flash of light had been a light bulb that was hanging from a cord in the ceiling. Spike had fixed the fuses, apparently.

       He shook his head, turning to face Spike, glaring at him, "What the hell is wrong with you? Didn't you hear us yelling?"

       "No…sound doesn't carry real well down here," Spike explained, "Probably `cause of all the junk. Anyway, come and see what I found."

       "I don't think so, man…Buffy's…" Oz sighed as Spike ignored him, heading towards the back of the cellar. Oz glanced towards the stairs uneasily, and then shook his head again before following after Spike. Spike's flashlight played ahead of them, and Oz frowned when he saw what looked like an office sat up in the far corner of the cellar.

       A desk lay there, covered in papers, an antique banker's lamp illuminating it. Polished brass shone in the dim light, part of an old phonograph, as well as large, bulky voice recorder that was thirty years out of date; threaded with reels instead of a tape. However, unlike the rest of the items in the basement, it wasn't covered in inches of dust. It hadn't been down there for all that long.

       "That's weird…" Oz muttered, "Who'd set up an office in the basement?"

       "Dunno…ole Rory sounds like a crazy old coot, if there ever was one. Maybe liked the privacy?" Spike replied absently as he and Oz started sifting through the papers on the desk. Spike raised an eyebrow as he found a long, lethal looking dagger beneath them and held it up for Oz to see. The handle looked to be carved of some sort of bone…possibly ivory, a screaming skull adorning the bottom of the hilt. "What I say? Crazy old coot…think he was sacrificing virgins up here with this thing?"

       Oz snorted, shrugging his shoulders, "If so, I think we're all safe."

       Spike chuckled as he slipped the dagger into the back of his jeans, deciding not to leave it down there rotting with the rest of the junk. It was pretty damn cool looking…and he could never have too many weapons.

       "I think Uncle Rory has some interesting hobbies on the side," Oz said, and Spike glanced towards him, watching as he held up a leather bound book; the leather was thick, and scarred heavily, apparently the worse for wear. The scarring almost looked…like a face. Spike shook his head at that thought.

       Oz flipped open the book, frowning as he stared at the foreign, unfamiliar writings, cocking his head as he stared at the nightmarish images drawn inside. Demons, human body parts, a hand, severed from a body, fingers curled to claw, drawn back like a cobra preparing to strike…

       "I think Uncle Rory has more then just a drinking problem," Spike muttered, picking up the voice recorder, "Come on…let's take this stuff upstairs…I'm thinking the others are going to want to take a peek at Rory's extracurricular activities."

       "SPIKE!" Buffy practically threw herself at the blonde as he climbed up out of the cellar, nearly making him drop the voice recorder. She hugged him tightly, and then pulled back, punching him square in the face. Spike stumbled back with a curse, shifting the bulky recorder to one arm so that he could touch his tenderized nose. "You asshole! I was freaking out up here why you were digging through trash?!" Two seconds later, she was throwing herself at him once more, hugging him close, "God…I was so worried!"

       "Y'know…these mood-swings of yours are enough to drive a bloke insane," Spike grumbled, but he kissed the top of her head. Even if she went psycho-Slayer on him, he was still touched that she was worried about him. "Sorry, pet. Didn't mean for you to fret."

        "We found some weird stuff down there," Oz said as Spike disentangled himself from Buffy's grasp to set down the recorder on the floor near the fireplace, and Buffy frowned when she saw the dagger sticking out of the back of his jeans. "Xander, what kind of stuff is your uncle into?"

       "What? Rory?" Xander looked down at the book Oz handed him, opening it up and peering down at the pictures and writing, "No way this is Rory's."

       "Jeez…remind me to never get on his bad side," Buffy said as she withdrew the dagger from Spike's pants, peering down at the screaming skull, "Creepy much?"

        "I'm telling you guys, this isn't Rory's crap," Xander insisted, handing the book back to Oz.

       "If it isn't Rory's, who does it belong too?" Willow asked, eyeing the recorder speculatively, wondering if there was some sort of clue on it.

       "Mine now," Spike snatched the dagger from Buffy with a grin, and she playfully tried to grab it from him, a playful wrestling match ensuing.

       "Will you guys grow up?" Cordelia snapped at them, and Buffy and Spike looked at her in surprise. She looked away from them, back into the fire, hugging her arms around her, shuddering, despite the heat coming off of the flames.

       Xander raised an eyebrow in Cordelia's direction, "Honey? You all right?"

       "I'm fine," She muttered irritably, "Just peachy. Why wouldn't I be?"

       Spike shook his head as he plopped down next to the recorder, pulling Buffy down on top of him again, and setting the dagger aside, "Should take a look at the book, Red…you're a bit of a Junior Watcher and all…"

       "Am not," Willow blushed, obviously flattered by the compliment Spike paid her, and obligingly took the book from Oz, raising an eyebrow as she began to flip through it, "I don't recognize the language at all…was it familiar looking to you, Spike? Is a demon thing?"

       "Not any that I know of," Spike replied, peeking over her shoulder, "Well…looks a little like Satasie…but it's not. Maybe some form of Ancient Satasie?"

       "What the hell is Sashtie?" Buffy asked, and Spike sighed.

       "Satasie, poodle…and Satasie are pretty much harmless…all bark, no bite…look a bit like giant squirrels. Don't think there are many of them around anymore."

       "Giant squirrels wrote this?" Willow frowned down at the diagram of an eyeball, optic nerves hanging behind it, dripping blood across the page. "Freaky little rodents."

       Spike chuckled, "They go for the smoke and mirrors bit…bare their teeth, growl, snarl, try to appear threatening…but if they're challenged…they scamper off right quick. They're not much for spells or ceremony either…more of the `breed obsessively, and die after a short lifespan' type."

       "Nice," Willow snapped the book shut with a sigh, "Well, Giles might have better luck with the giant squirrel creepy book translation." She turned her attention to the recorder, "Should we listen to it?"

       "No!"

       Everyone jumped, shooting startled looks at Cordelia, who was twisting a thick strand of hair in her fingers. "Cordy?" Xander eyed his girlfriend worriedly, "You all right? You've been kinda acting weird since we got here."

       "I…I just…" Cordelia shook her head, unable to find a voice to her anxiety. She just didn't like the book, the cellar, or the recorder thing; she also didn't like the way her friends were staring at her like she was insane. "It's…it's been a long day," She finally conceded with a sigh, "Drank too much…"

       "You want to go lay down?" Willow suggested, somewhat worriedly, but Cordelia shook her head, turning her gaze into the fire, offering no further protest when Spike leaned around Buffy to push the large `play' button down.

       There was a static hiss as the reels started to turn, and then a disembodied voice spoke out to the small group gathered around it.

       "My name is Julian Knowby. I am a professor of Ancient Egyptian mythology in Dextin University's ancient history department…"

       "See? This isn't so bad," Xander said to Cordelia, rolling his eyes, "It's probably a recording of one of his stupid lectures or something…" She didn't even look towards him, only drawing her knees closer to her chest, concentrating even more attention on the flickering, dancing flames, her breath catching in her throat.

       "I am recording this entry from a small cabin in the mountains of California. Here, I am staying with my wife for a few weeks so that I may continue my research undisturbed…"

       "Well, that blows the theory of them turning around and running away the second this saw this piece of crap of a cabin," Buffy observed, giggling when Spike tickled her sides, shushing her.

       "Since May, a group of associate professors and myself have been excavating the ruins of Ca'n Dar. I believe I have made an important find in that area, and thus, the reason for this log…"

       "Giant Squirrel diaries," Oz muttered, earning a smile from Willow.

       "With it, I can keep an accurate record of translations from my latest find; the first of six, the others still lost, volumes of ancient Sumerian burial practices and rites."

       Spike dropped his head on Buffy's shoulder, pretending to fall asleep with a loud snore. "Jesus…could this guy get anymore dry and boring? Sounds like the Watcher…cross-bred with Ben Stein."

       "Bueller...Bueller…Bueller" Xander imitated the actor, his voice sounding like it was stuck in slow-mo, ala his role in `Ferris Bueller's Day Off.'

       "Guys, shush," Willow admonished.

       "Basically, it is a book of do's and don'ts dealing with the deceased entitled "Necronomicon Ex Mortes," roughly translated "Book of the Dead." It is bound in human flesh, and inked with blood of the deceased…"

       In perfect synchronicity, everyone who had touched the book looked down at their hands, grimaces of disgust crossing their faces.

       "Eeeeewwwww…" Willow groaned, rubbing her hands on her jeans frantically, and Buffy immediately jumped off Spike's lap.

       "Oh…God…no more touching till you wash your hands! Creepy giant squirrels, my ass!"

       "Great, Spike…hand around the book made of PEOPLE!" Xander's face was screwed up in revulsion.

       "Hey! The Wolf was handing out the pamphlet of the Dead here, if you'd recall."

       "Hey, man…didn't know." Oz defended himself.

       "Told you," Cordelia mumbled beneath her breath, but either no one heard her or they were ignoring her.

       "This particular volume deals with demons and demon resurrection. These are of the Katardi family, meaning those forces believed to inhabit the jungles and woods of man's domain…"

       Willow glanced towards Spike, and he frowned slightly, trying to place the name. "Kind of a wood sprite thing, I think…the Katardi…like Robyn Goodfellow…nymphs…stuff like that…more mischievous then dangerous."

       "The first few pages that I have translated warn that these demons are dangerous, ever-present, and exist primarily though this book." The voice said, as if in reply to Spike's comment.

       "Or I could be wrong…"

       "As legend has it, only the sacred high priests of the Ca'n Dar tribe could possess these books, for they alone could properly control the resurrected demons. It is only through the act of reciting the resurrection passage that these demons would be able to posses the living. For many years, it was thought that this legend…"

       Impulsively, Cordelia lunged forward and slammed the stop button, the machine letting out a hiss of protest as the reels stopped turning on their spindles.

       "Hey! Cordy, what gives?" Xander asked in bewilderment, "It was finally getting good."

       "No demon squirrel wrote that book," Cordelia turned her gaze reluctantly towards the book, shuddering at the scarred, demented look of it. She felt like it had eyes and it was watching her, making her skin pinch and crawl over her flesh.

       She suddenly stood, grabbing up the book and striding towards the fire, a determined look on her face.

       "Cordelia!" Spike was on his feet in an instant, grabbing her arm before she could toss it in, "Give it back, pet…we gotta bring this thing in to the Watcher…"

       "No!" She snapped at him, "We should destroy it! Right. NOW!" She shoved Spike backwards. He managed to snag the book, and it pulled free of her grasp as he fell, his leg smacking against the recorder and sending it sliding across the floor, a hiss exploding from its speakers before the reels started to turn once more.

       "Give it back, Spike!" Cordelia stalked towards him as he scrambled backwards, and he clamored to his feet.

       "Cordy, come on! Calm down!" Xander went towards her and grabbed her arms, and she struggled against him violently.

       "Tantir-ah-mis-trobeen-ha-zar-ta…"

       "No! Throw it in the fire! NOW! DO IT! Before it's too late!" She shrieked at them, not hearing the tinny voice coming from the recorder.

       "Tantir-man-ov-mis-hazen-sober…"

       Spike glanced towards the window when a sudden buffet of wind struck the cabin, howling and battering against the walls, like it was living, breathing thing.

       "Kanda!"

       "DO IT NOW! SPIKE! DO IT!"

       "Kanda!"

       Spike turned back towards the room, looking towards the recorder, his face paling slightly, and then he was sprinting across the room.

       "KANDA!"

       Spike slammed the off button on the recorder, and then Cordelia screamed as a tree branch crashed through one of the windows, glass and boards shattering inward. Cordelia tore herself free from Xander finally, her eyes appearing glazed as she turned to gaze at Spike, dead straight in the eye, her voice oddly disjointed.

       "I hope you're happy, Spike…you've killed us all."

Previously on The Evil Dead:

       Oz went down after Spike into the creepy old cellar, and after having post-mortem Bambi attack him, he and Spike discovered a really ugly book, a recorder and a big ole creepy dagger. Buffy's relieved when Spike comes out of the Cellar of Death™, but that doesn't keep her from punching him for making her worry. Okay, I know that's mean, but don't all girls want to beat the shit out of their boyfriend for doing incredibly stupid crap? Oz handed around the book, everyone snuggled around the fire again, and Spike yapped about giant demon squirrels writing literature. They played the recording of Ben Stein against Cordelia's advice, and found out the Book was made from PEOPLE! PEOPLE! I TELL YOU! SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!!! Uh…sorry. Wrong movie. Buffy won't touch Spike till he washes his hands, oh, and they found out the book was really the Sumerian Book of the Dead. You'd think at this point, they'd start taking things seriously. Then again, this story is based on adolescent stupidity. Without it, no story. Cordelia tried to destroy the book, but Spike stopped her, after accidentally turning on the recording again, and Ben Stein started sprouting really creepy words. A tree crashed through the window, and Cordelia accused Spike of killing them all. Little melodramatic there, aren't we Cord? We can all trace this back to Uncle Rory, really…the drunk needed beer money, so he rented the cabin to some creepy old Egypt-dude and his wife. DAMN YOU UNCLE RORY! YOU'VE KILLED US ALL!

Part Five

       Silence reigned over the group for several minutes as Cordelia continued to stare accusingly at Spike. Spike was looking a little bit stunned by her accusation, as did Buffy. Without a word, she broke off her gaze with him and stalked towards the bedroom that she and Xander were sharing. The door slammed shut behind her, the door rattling in its frame. Xander stared at the closed door, apparently trying to decide whether going after her was a good idea or not.

       "What was that about?" Buffy asked, going to her boyfriend's side, and threaded her fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I mean…overreact much?"

       "I don't know…she's really upset…maybe Xander should go talk to her?" Willow suggested.

       "Do I look suicidal?"

       Willow glared at Xander as Oz moved towards the window, inspecting the branch that had broken through it. He shook his head as he shoved it back outside, "That's weird."

       "This whole place is weird," Willow muttered, shaking her head, "I think I'm funned out for the weekend…tomorrow…can we just go home?"

       "Oh, come on! We drove like…six hours to get here!" Xander protested, "I'm sure Cordy will feel better by tomorrow morning…she just doesn't hold her liquor well."

       "No, I think Willow's right," Buffy replied, chewing on her bottom lip worriedly, "This place does have some really creepy vibes…and they're getting worse…besides, we should get that book to Giles, ASAP. He'll be ticked off if we put it off till Monday."

       "Fine," Xander sighed heavily, "We'll leave first thing in the morning…"

       "I don't know, Harris," Spike looked down at Buffy, who was pressing herself against his side. "Cordelia's upset, Red's upset, Buffys' upset…hell…even I'm starting to get upset…let's just grab our shit and go…we can at least stay in town till tomorrow."

       "Does anyone really wanna go over the bridge at this time of night?" Xander asked, "If we run into trouble, we're stuck, and we'd have to hike all the way back here anyway."

       Spike sighed, giving in. As much as he hated to admit it, Xander was right. "You'll be okay till the morning, luv?" Spike asked Buffy softly, and she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

       "Are you?" She shot back challengingly, making him chuckle.

       "What about you, Red? Wolf?"

       "Not like we have much of a choice," Willow sighed, "We're probably overreacting, anyway. Today's just been one disaster after another…" She then hastily added, "But I still wanna leave tomorrow."

       "Great…" Xander sighed, glancing at Oz, as if hoping for a bit of backup, but none was forthcoming. "Fine…tomorrow, we'll head home."

       "Why do you think Cordelia said that to you?" Buffy asked, watching Spike; to her annoyance, he had brought the book with him, and was now pacing the bedroom, thumbing through it. Perched on his nose were his cute, little wire-frame reading glasses, which he'd only wear in her presence. It had been a surprise to her to find out that even as a vampire, he still had bad eyesight; apparently, an improved vision plan wasn't in the vampire contract. Good thing he looked adorable with them on, or she'd have been forced to torment him about them.

       "Will you put that thing down?" She asked in irritation when he ignored her, "It gives me the wiggins."

       He finally looked in her direction, "Huh…sorry…what was that, luv?"

       "The book! It's giving me the creeps," Buffy replied, crossing her arms over her chest, and jutting out her lower lip, "And Cordelia…I mean…why she said that to you, not that she's giving me the creeps…well…actually, she did freak me out."

       "I don't know why Cordelia said that to me," Spike replied, turning his attention back to the book, "Scared maybe? Had a feeling something was wrong? Not sure…" He looked up at Buffy again, seeing the frightened look that briefly passed over her face before she could hide it. He sighed, setting the book down on the dresser and crossing towards her to sit on the bed by her side.

       "Listen…we'll be fine till morning, I'm sure, baby," He assured her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and drawing her closer to kiss her temple, "Besides…even if what was on that recorder was a spell…they don't work like that. Red can tell you that. There's ceremonies involved, y'know, candles, incense, a circle…all that rot…"

       "I don't know…Giles always told Xander to `never read Latin in front of the books,'" Buffy replied unsurely.

       "Well…the Romans were a bunch of lazy gits…didn't want to set down and do a spell properly." That got a tiny smile of out her, and Spike brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, smiling at her warmly. "Nothing to worry about, baby. Promise."

       She tilted her head up as his lips came down, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him close as they kissed, his tongue delving into her mouth, wrapping around her tongue. Spike blinked when she suddenly broke off the kiss, and shoved him away with a grimace. "What's wrong? I brushed my teeth after eating this time! Promise!"

       "It's not that," She stood, firmly planting her feet on the ground and hands on her hips. "I'm not doing it with that book in the room! And until you wash your hands!"

       "Cordy? You asleep?" Xander cautiously came into the bedroom; his girlfriend was lying on the bed, her back to him. If she was awake, she was ignoring him completely. He crossed around the bed, and saw that her eyes were open, staring fixedly at the wall. "Honey? We're going home first thing in the morning."

       She turned her head slightly to look at him, her lips drawing up in a feral smile, eyes shining much too brightly in the dark room, "But don't you see? We'll all be dead by dawn."

       Willow tossed and turned fitfully in bed, unable to succumb to sleep. She rolled onto her back with a groan, sending an ill-natured glare at Oz, who was sleeping rather deeply beside her. She considered elbowing him awake, but decided against it with a sigh. No reason to bug her boyfriend because she was grumpy and developing a serious case of insomnia.

       She finally sighed in defeat when she felt her bladder start to protest, apparently joining the plot to keep her from a goodnight's sleep. She groaned as she carefully swung herself out of bed, careful to not jostle Oz. She padded out of the bedroom, tugging on the Rob Zombie t-shirt of Oz's she was wearing in lieu of a nightgown, dragging the hem past her thighs in case she bumped into Xander or Spike.

       She found her way to the small bathroom in the back of the cabin, just off of the kitchen, wrinkling her nose as she walked into it. It was absolutely filthy; the floor covered in unidentifiable stains, bathtub full of leaves and white porcelain stained black. She shook her head, going towards the toilet, and nearly lost everything she had eaten that day on the floor.

       Inside the toilet, thick, black viscous fluid was churning within the bowl, the stench seeming to intensify the longer she remained in there. She staggered against the doorway, and groaned as the black fluid started to overflow, pouring over the rim of the toilet and covering the floor, flowing towards her.

       She immediately backed out of the bathroom and slammed the door closed. Looked like someone really needed to call Roto-rooter. Figures. The septic tank decided now it wanted to overflow.

       The pressure on her bladder intensified, combined with the urge to violently vomit, and she sighed, heading towards the backdoor. Does a Wiccan shit in the woods? Looks like this one does, Willow thought, a wry smile touching her lips…and…crap, the toilet paper was in the bathroom. Well, no way in hell was she going into that bathroom to get it.

       Well, apparently, a Wiccan did shit in the woods…and used leaves too. God, she hoped she remembered what poison sumac looked like, or that would be just the perfect ending to this horrible trip.

        Willow sighed as she headed out into the backdoor, looking into the dark forest apprehensively. Who turned on the fog machine? It looks like a Michael Jackson Eighties video out here...

       She shook her head slightly at that thought, chewing on her bottom lip; mist rolled through the closely clustered woods, the entire forest silent, not even a single cricket chirping. However, she thought in the distance, she heard a wolf howling. Okay, so it was a Michael Jackson video…notably the Thriller one she'd seen on VH1. If the Gloved One himself came prancing out of the forest, that was it. She was getting in Spike's car and taking off. There were a few things Willow was deathly afraid of, and the pigment-less pop singer was one of them.

       She started away from the cabin and towards the trees, rubbing her arms, which had sprouted goose bumps from the cool, night air. She made sure she kept the cabin in sight before finding a suitable place to do her business, plucking a few leaves off a tree that had fallen during the storm earlier in the evening.

       She straightened when she finished, grimacing a bit in disgust, deciding that the first order of business when she got home was a long, hot, invasive shower. She started towards the cabin once more, but paused when she heard something rustling in the woods off to her side. She frowned, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as she peered into the fog-covered woods, trying to see who was there.

       "Oz? Is that you?" No one answered her, and she shrugged, deciding it must've been a squirrel…but hopefully not Spike's demon squirrels…which, personally, she thought he must be making up. Because…demon squirrels…no matter how big, just didn't seem that freaky to her.

       She moved to take a step, but the rustling returned, this time, bringing friends. She jerked her head, eyes widening when she heard the sound of crashing trees, and what sounded like a huge animal crashing through the underbrush. She whirled, panicked, and started to sprint in the opposite direction. She had gone about fifty yards when she stopped with a loud swear, berating herself. She had run away from the damned cabin, and now whatever was in the woods with her was between her and relative safety.

       "BUFFY!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, "SPIKE! HELP!"

       The crashing continued, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she brought up her hands, starting to murmur a protection spell. Her eyes shot open when something sharp slapped against her wrist, and then her arm was jerked painfully to the side. She turned her head, heart nearly stopping in her chest as the forest itself seem to come alive.

       Vines shot out of the ground and started wrapping themselves around her legs, and she started to scream as thorns and sharp twigs dug into her flesh, ripping into it, blood starting to run down her legs, even as more branches wove themselves around her arms, pulling them away from her body, almost in the cruel, woodland parody of a crucifixation.

       A branch wound itself around her forehead, keeping her head still, and it tore into the skin of her forehead when she tried to jerk herself free. There was the sound of ripping clothe as the vines continued to bind her, and she screamed even louder when her feet were suddenly yanked out from beneath her. She struggled against the branches, yanking and pulling at them, trying to make them lose their hold on her. She heard the sound of snapping wood and she trashed even more, heartened by the fact that they seemed to be giving under the stress of her fighting back.

       Faintly, underneath the sound of her own, shrill shouts, she heard a hissing sound as something moved over dead leaves and towards her, and she lifted her head, eyes going wide when she saw a single, thick branch move towards her. Just then, the vines and limbs holding her legs started to yank them apart, leaving her open and vulnerable.

       The branch that had been slithering towards her suddenly shot forward, and she screamed till her lungs were hoarse and raw.

       "OOOOOOOOOOZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!"

       She gave a out a forlorn cry when no one answered, shutting her eyes and mind against what was happening to her, against…against the thing that was violating her body, and wrenched her right arm with a furious, desperate sob. The branches holding her arms finally snapped, but not before leaving large scratches all along her arm. She grabbed the ones holding her left arm and pulled them loose, and scrambled backwards, pulling and tugging at the ones binding her legs.

       As soon as she was loose, she shot to her feet, sobbing with harsh, rasping breaths as she ran for the cabin, the sound of crashing trees and a low, eerie wailing pursuing her through the woods. She hit the front door running, and began screaming and pounding on it, blood running down her arms, legs and face, "Let me in! OH GOD! PLEASE! LET ME IN!" She looked over her shoulder when a tree near the cabin crashed to the ground, and then shrieked when an arm grabbed her, and yanked her into the cabin, the door slamming shut behind her.

Previously on the Evil Dead:

       The gang finally decides that coming to the cabin wasn't such a hot idea, and make the decision to go home, the very next morning, much to Xander's disappointment. Spike wears cute, but really nerdy reading glasses, Buffy won't get frisky with the creepy book in the room, and Cordelia says that they'll all be `Dead by dawn.' Who pissed in her cheerios? Seriously! Willow had to pee, and went outside into the woods, despite her fear the Michael Jackson would pop out at her. (Michael Jackson when he was still black, but after his first nose job, that is.) She then committed the most common horror movie mistake. She heard a sound in the woods and wasted time trying to make first contact instead of hauling her skinny ass indoors. And then she runs AWAY from the cabin, instead of towards it, like any sane human person, and ran into some freaky, amorous redwoods. Yes. The trees did what you think they did to her. (That's what she gets for claming to be Wiccan all during season six, when…obviously not Wiccan behavior.) Willow and I have issues. We're trying to work through them in group. Willow manages to get herself free and finally runs for the cabin. I'm not sure how everyone thought this girl was some kind of genius in high school. The cabin was the first place I would've went! Well…at least she didn't trip at a crucial moment, that's all I can say.

Part Six

       "Holy fuckin' shit…" Willow collapsed into Spike's arm, sobbing and gripping his shoulders tightly, "Willow! What the hell happened to you?!"

       "They…they were everywhere…all over me…" Willow bawled, burrowing her face against his chest, entire body trembling so violently that Spike was half certain she had actually gone into convulsions from fright.

       "Willow? Oh…Christ…WILLOW!" Spike immediately moved aside as Oz rushed to his girlfriend's side, gathering the shattered, broken girl into his arms.

       "I was…I was screaming! But no one came! I was screaming! But you didn't come! You didn't come!"

       "Wills…shh…we're here now, baby," Oz's nostrils flared, and he looked up at Spike sharply, who was watching them both pensively, a dark cloud brewing on his brow.

       The rest of the crew came barreling out of their bedrooms at the commotion, save for Cordelia, who calmly came out and leaned against the doorway of the room, looking in on the scene somewhat impassively.

       "Wills? What happened?!" Xander asked in horror, staring at his bloodied, beaten best friend, trying not to notice the way her clothes had been torn.

       Willow had dissolved into a mess of tears, no longer speaking, just holding onto Oz, and Spike disappeared into the bedroom, and he came out with his duster, handing it to Oz to wrap around his mate. The werewolf shot him a grateful look that he didn't need words to convey.

       "She just came to the door, screaming and pounding on it," Spike explained to a panicked Xander as he drew Buffy into his arms, noting that she hadn't said anything; just stood there, wide-eyed and watching her best friend with what looked like hopelessness. Spike glanced around till he found Cordelia. She was still standing in the doorway, but she was now looking at him, instead of Willow. Her gaze seemed somewhat neutral, but he could almost feel the accusations brewing beneath her calm exterior.

       "Willow…baby…what happened?" Oz gently cajoled her as her tears started to wind down, being replaced by heavy sniffles, "Can you tell us who did it to us…"

       "Th-the forest…" She stammered out, drawing Spike's duster even tighter around her, closing her eyes with a shudder.

       "Someone in the forest? Did you see his face?" Oz continued to gently pry, glancing up towards Spike, fire burning behind his hazel eyes, "He can't outrun us."

       "We'll get him, pet," Spike assured Willow with a nod at Oz. He'd catch the bastard and skin him alive for doing…that to their Willow.

       "No...no…no…NO!" Willow shook her head violently, "It wasn't SOMEONE! It was the woods themselves!"

       For once, Oz looked completely at a loss, "The…woods did this to you…?"

       "YES!" Willow shouted, swinging to her feet somewhat unsteadily and looking towards Spike, "I want to go home! NOW! RIGHT NOW!"

       "Willow…" Xander walked towards her, "Come on…calm down…we're leaving first thing in the morning…"

       "NO! I want to GO right now!" Willow shrieked at him shrilly, "We have to leave!"

       "Wills…"

       "Xander, shut up," Buffy glared at her friend, "She's right. We have to leave now."

       "It's too late for that." Cordelia spoke up finally from the doorway, and everyone looked towards her, "It won't let us leave. Not now."

       "I've had about enough of you," Spike growled at her, "Go get your shit, and shut the hell UP!" She smiled at him in disdain before disappearing into the bedroom, and Spike looked back towards Willow, tears leaving tracks down her dirty face, "We're going now, pet…don't you worry. We're gettin' out of here."

       Willow clutched Buffy's hand tightly, anxiously trying to peer through the paint over Spike's windshield, her body still shivering, despite the sweat standing out on her forehead; she drew her thick fleece coat even more tightly around her. Faintly, she could see the headlights highlighting the stark, bare trunks of the trees they whizzed by, mist rolling across the road. She sat, snugly, in the front seat between Spike and Buffy. In the back, Cordelia sat stiffly between Xander and Oz, her eyes riveted on the back of Spike's head, her eyes seeming to burn with fire, branding the vampire.

       Oz opened the window a crack, but immediately closed it when Willow tensed and turned to look at it with frightened, haunted eyes, as if whatever was in the woods could squeeze through the window, and get them all.

       Spike turned onto the road that would lead to the bridge, softly muttering to the redhead beside him, "See? No worries, luv…'nother hour, we'll be in town, checking into the first motel we see, hmm? Won't that be nice…shower sounds good right about now…"

       Willow smiled faintly at Spike's attempts to calm her shattered nerves; she appreciated the effort…even if it wasn't working worth crap. "Yeah," She whispered beneath her breath, laying her head on Buffy's shoulder, "Real nice…"

       Spike glanced at Willow worriedly before looking into the rearview mirror. Cordelia turned her head slightly so that she would be looking him right in the eye, if it weren't for his lack of reflection. He wasn't sure what was exactly happening with her…but she was starting to act as nutty as Dru. "What about you, Cordy? Shower sound good to you?"

       He regretted addressing her as a sickly-sweet smile crossed her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes, "You really don't think we're leaving, do you?"

       Spike's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he gritted his teeth together in frustration, "Now, come on…that's no way to talk," He forced out, trying to sound confident and amicable, "For a former cheerleader, you're certainly negative."

       "I'm sorry. Not what you wanted to hear?" She started to wave her hands around as she snapped sarcastically, "Spike, Spike, he's our man…if he can't kill us, no one can!"

       "CORDELIA! WILL YOU FUCKING SHUT UP?!" Buffy finally broke, "Just…SHUT UP! You're not helping anybody. And this is NOT Spike's fault."

       Cordelia pressed her lips together, but said nothing more as she settled back against the seat. Xander stared at her, eyes wide, mouthing hanging open slightly. He tried to reach out and take her hand, but Cordelia shook him off, still staring forward.

       "How much farther to the bridge, Spike?" Oz asked, mostly to break the oppressive silence that settled over the group, and Spike peered through the windshield into the darkness before them, and then he sighed in relief.

       "Coming up on it now," Spike said, starting to slow down for the possibly precarious drive across. He suddenly slammed on the brakes, and Buffy and Willow grabbed each other with twin cries of surprise.

       "Spike! Can't you brake like normal people?" Buffy asked in annoyance, which faded when she saw the look on his face. He opened the door, despite Willow's sharp protests, and climbed out to stare ahead in shock.

       "Un-bloody-fucking-believable…" He breathed as the passenger and driver's side door opened, spilling out the rest of the Scoobies, save for Cordelia, who remained where she was.

       "Oh…God…Oh God…Oh…God…" Willow chanted, looking frightened out of her wits.

       Spike moved away towards the car, and to the face of the cliff, looking past the twisted steel remnants of what had been a bridge just that afternoon. Across the vast canyon, he could see girders lying twisted and deformed against the cliff on the other side. "Now what in the fuck could've done that?!"

       "There's another way around," Buffy said, looking towards Xander, "Isn't there? There has to be. Just a long, scenic route, right…?"

       Xander shook his head dazedly, still staring at the wreckage, "Uh…no…this…this is….was the only road. There's no other way around…"

       "What about by foot?" Oz asked, "You said there was all kinds of hiking trails around here…one of them has to lead to the other side…"

       "Yeah…uh…yeah." Xander shook his head, as if to clear it, "There's one trail that leads to the other side…but it's a two day walk"

       "No, no way am I walking," Willow shuddered, "It's in the woods!"

       "There's no other way, Wills…" Xander told her.

       "But…Spike. He can't hike for two days…" Buffy said.

       "Why not?" Xander looked towards Spike, "You run around under a blanket all the time."

       "Yeah…sprinting from the sewer," Buffy reminded him, "And even then, he's already smoking before he gets in the door. He'd catch on fire if he's out in the sun for too long, even under a blanket!"

       "Buffy,' Spike touched her arm, drawing her attention towards him, "Worry `bout your friends and not me. Nothing we can do for me at the moment, but if there's a chance for you lot to get out of here, you better take it."

       "I'm not just leaving you here!" Buffy asserted firmly.

       "Guys?" Oz interrupted the argument that was sure to break out between the two of them as he wrapped an arm around Willow's waist, "Let's get back to the cabin…we can figure out what to do once we're indoors."

       "This is so not over," Buffy vowed as she whirled on her heel and stomped towards the car, and Spike sighed, hanging his head as he followed.

       "Didn't assume it was," He mumbled beneath his breath.

       "Will?" Buffy sat beside her best friend near the broken window, where Spike was boarding it up once more. Willow turned wide, stormy green eyes towards Buffy, and Buffy offered her a weak smile as she pressed a cup of warm tea into her friend's shaking hands. "How you doing?"

       "Okay, I guess," She whispered, her voice sounding a bit hoarse still. She looked past Buffy's shoulder, to see Oz and Xander arguing in low voices, and Cordelia was sitting in the corner, a purple flowered diary open on her lap. She was furiously scribbling in it with her pencil. "What's she doing?"

       Buffy followed Willow's gaze, hesitating before answering, "She's...uh…she's writing a good-bye note…to her parents…"

       Willow closed her eyes with a low groan, and Buffy stood as Oz came towards them, taking her place beside the redhead. "First light…Xander and I are going for help," He announced, and Spike turned sharply, "Anyone one else who wants to come, can."

       "I'm not going," Buffy said firmly, "I'm not leaving without Spike."

       "Buffy…you're going," Spike dropped the hammer back into the toolbox, holding up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest, "If something's out in the woods, you can't expect them to go alone."

       "I wouldn't bother…stay…go…you'll just end up dead anyway…"

       "I swear to God…" Spike glared in Cordelia's direction, "I'm five seconds from throwing her down into the cellar and nailing it closed again!"

       "Don't you talk about her like that!" Xander snapped at Spike, "She's just…stressed."

       "Stressed? No…Willow's stressed…your bird is out of her fuckin' goddamn mind!"

       "Xander…" Oz counseled in a low voice, "Maybe you should put her to bed or something…she's really not helping anyone with her comments," He looked pointedly towards Willow, whose head was bowed, hair in her face, and she picked at the bandages covering her hands. Her shoulders were shaking; whether she was crying or was just frightened was anyone's guess.

       "Fine," Buffy conceded, "In the morning, Xander, Oz and I start through the woods…Spike can stay here with Cordy and Willow."

       "Oh…gee…thanks. Leave me with the doomsayer," Spike muttered sarcastically, "I'm locking her in the cellar. I'm not kiddin' about that."

       "Spike, you can't lock Cordelia in the basement," Buffy told him with a sigh, "But you can lock her in the bathroom."

       "Hey! There will be no locking my girlfriend up ANYWHERE in the cabin!"

       "Trunk? I gotta clear some of my shit out…but she can squeeze…"

       "Guys, will you be serious for five minutes?" Oz asked in annoyance as he went towards one of the boarded up windows, peeking out of it, "It's a two day trip to get to the other side of the canyon, once we get to the road, we might be able to hitchhike to town…then we'll send help."

       Buffy looked towards Spike, who was throwing a few more logs on the fire; he hadn't brought up the fact that even if they managed to make it to town for help, he'd still be unable to make it back without a bridge. He straightened, glancing over his shoulder to catch her anxious look, and he grinned at her.

       "Sounds like a plan," He replied overly cheerfully, "As long as the Negative Nancy over there keeps her yap shut, we'll be just peachy." Right…that didn't sound completely poncy at all…he thought, rolling his eyes.

       Buffy smiled despite herself, and Spike wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her forehead, a soft sigh escaping her lips, "I guess we should try and get some sleep so we can be out of here as soon as the sun rises," Buffy told Oz and Xander, "Wills? Do your bandages need to be changed?"

       Buffy smiled faintly when Willow didn't answer; her head still bent, and knelt in front of her.

       Cordelia abruptly stood, her chair falling backwards and slamming into the floor with a heavy thud that made everyone jump; her pencil and diary slipped from her lap and to the ground, forgotten.

       Buffy glared at her over her shoulder, hissing, "Keep it down, will you? Willow's trying too…" Buffy's words were cut off with a sharp cry as Willow's hand shot out and enclosed around her throat.

       Willow's head jerked upwards, her face gone deathly pale, eyes the pallor of bone; her blue lips were drawn around her teeth. The skin of her face and hands looked as though they had began to decompose, and yellowed fingernails dug into Buffy's skin, drawing  a bit of blood. She lurched to her feet gracelessly, lifting Buffy off of the ground with a inhuman shriek. Willow easily tossed her through the air at Spike, who had started to move to Buffy's defense, and the two blonds smashed together, rolling across the floor in a tangle of limbs.

       "Willow!" Xander regretted saying her name as soon as the words passed his mouth as Willow jerked to face him, her body rising off the ground, head rolling on her shoulders. She started towards him in the air, fingers twisted into claws, eyes boring into his dementedly.

       "Why have you disturbed our sleep? Awakened us from our ancient slumber?" Willow's body jerked as if on a puppeteer's strings, "You will die! Like the others before you! One by one, we will take you!"

       "Oh God…" Xander whimpered, backing away from the thing that had been his best friend just a few moments ago. Suddenly, without explanation, Willow's body crashed to the ground, and lay still.

       Oz stared at her body, unable to force himself to move, his ears telling him what his eyes refused to accept. She wasn't breathing…and her heart had ceased to beat. He let out a lupine whimper, collapsing to his knees.

       Spike climbed to his feet, eyeing the fallen girl with trepidation, gripping Buffy's arm when she attempted to move towards her friend.

       "Is…is she dead?" Xander asked, his eyes wide, moving forward carefully.

       "Harris…don't…" Spike tried to advise him, but Xander glared in his direction, and continued towards Willow, kneeling by her side.

       "Wills?" Xander called quietly, staring fixedly into her face, which had seemed to have sunk inwardly, creating shadows around her mouth and eyes.

       "Xander, get away from her," Cordelia ordered in a shaky voice, "Willow's dead…"

       Xander cut his gaze towards Cordelia, and then towards Oz, who was just kneeling in the middle of the floor, watching on in what looked like shock. Buffy was clinging to Spike's arm, staring at Willow with tears standing in her eyes, and Spike was giving him a disapproving look, but didn't appear to want to move any closer. "We gotta help her," He said hoarsely, "There's gotta be a way to help her…"

       "She's dead…" Oz said hollowly, "She's dead…there's…nothing we can do…she's dead…"

       "We got to TRY!" Xander shouted at them, "Don't just stand there! Help me!"

       "XANDER!" Cordelia's shout came to late, and Xander looked down in surprise as Willow's hand closed around the pencil that Cordelia had dropped, and he screamed as she shot up to stare him in the face with her corpse eyes, attempting to scramble back.

       She lifted the pencil and in a lightening fast move, she brought it down again. Xander howled in pain as the sharpened point sliced through his ankle, right into his tendons with a squelch. Willow cackled demonically as she jerked it back and forth in the wound, driving it even farther into his flesh, blood flowing out onto the floor, not stopping till the point snapped when it dragged across his bones.

       She jerked it loose, and was about to plunge into him again when Spike grabbed her arm. She turned on him, her free hand crashing against his face, and she shoved, sending him slamming into a bookcase across the room, which fell over on top of him as he fell to the ground.

       She tilted towards her feet again, ignoring Xander, who was lying on the ground, hand closed over his bleeding ankle, trying to choke back his sobs of pain. She lifted the pencil and started towards Spike with shrill, insane giggles, merely backhanding Buffy, when she attempted to get in her way. Buffy hit the fireplace with a sharp cry as her forehead smashed against the mantle, blood trickling down her face.

       "Jesus Tap-dancin' CHRIST!" Spike shoved up on the bookcase, wide eyes on Willow, not liking the looks of the wooden pencil she was holding.

       She suddenly staggered to the side with a shriek, and she whirled around to face Oz, who was standing behind her, holding the ax in both hands, a determined look on his face. He nearly dropped his weapon when Willow's voice suddenly issued from her blue lips, "Oz…Oz? Baby…what are you doing? I thought you loved me," She said plaintively, even as her bone white eyes continued to stare him in the face, "You said we were mates forever…"

       A sob broke out of the conflicted were-wolf as he started to lower the ax.

       "WOLF!" Spike spoke sharply, "Don't listen to her. Willow's dead.  You know she's dead…"

       "Oz…baby? Don't listen to him…I love you…and you love me…" Her face twisted with hatred when Oz gripped the ax tighter and held it up again. "LIAR!" She lunged at him, malformed hands going for his throat.

       Oz ducked under her sloppy lunge, closing his eyes as he slammed her in the back with his ax, the blade cutting through her spinal column; her blood splattered him in the face as she screeched, falling against the ground, near the trapdoor.

       She attempted to gain her feet again, but Oz kicked her from behind, sending her tumbling down the stairs, and he slammed the door shut, throwing himself on top of it as she screamed through the wood. The trapdoor lifted up a bit when she slammed against it with a sickening crunch of bone.

       "HELP ME!" He screamed at the petrified Cordelia, "GET OVER HERE NOW! I CAN'T HOLD HER!"

       Cordelia shook her head, her hair whipping around her face violently, "No…no…I told you all…no…no…no…NOO!"

       Spike finally managed to wriggle out from beneath the bookcase as Buffy dragged herself up the side of the mantle place, tears running down her face. She stumbled towards Oz and collapsed on top of the door beside him, and Willow finally stopped banging against it when she couldn't budge the added weight of the Slayer. Instead, she stood directly beneath them, giggling eerily.

       Oz started rubbing his face with his hands, trying to clear Willow's blood off of him, finally breaking out into sobs that made his entire body shake. He fell into Buffy's arms when she wrapped them around him, and she looked up at Spike as he shakily ran a hand through his hair.

       "Harris…you…you all right?"

       Xander looked up at him with haunted eyes. His blood had pooled on the floor around his ankle, and it was still flowing. "Willow's gone," He said hollowly, "She's really gone. Really, really gone…"

       "Cordelia…"

       She was still shaking her head, muttering `No' underneath her breath.

       "CORDELIA!"

       She finally looked up at Spike, the loathing and accusation in her eyes now replaced with fear, "You gotta take care of Harris…get his ankle bandaged up. You can do it, right? Sure you can…you've been a Scoob long enough…I gotta go and find something to keep the cellar closed with…"

       Cordelia slowly turned her head to look towards Xander, and she automatically started towards him, her movements forced and mechanical looking. She collapsed next to him, and pushed the leg of his trousers up to stare down at the stab wound in his ankle.

       "Chains…" Oz spoke up without looking up at Spike; instead, his gaze was on the fire still burning merrily away in the fireplace. Were he and Willow really just sitting there a mere three hours ago, joking and having fun with their friends? It seemed impossible to him. "Chains…there's some chains in the tool shed…I saw them when we got the toolbox…we can chain it shut…"

       "Right…" Spike took a deep breath, and picked up the ax off the floor where Oz had dropped it. "I'll be back in a jiffy, kiddies…don't you worry…" His enthusiasm sounded as forced as it really was, and he pressed his lips together before opening the front door and peered out into the silent, dark woods on the other side. Without another word, he stepped out onto the porch, firmly closing the door behind him.

Previously on the Evil Dead:

       Willow was freaked out, Cordelia was still acting all creepy and shit, Oz and Spike wanted to beat the shit out of some dirty, rapist trees, (See what happens when a redwood gets a woody? HA! Get it? Trees? Woody? Oh…bite me.) A pencil was SERIOUSLY misused! (Warning to the kiddies who are UNDOUBTEDLY reading this fic, despite me telling them NO! Do NOT stab people with pencils. Not only will you break the tip off, it's really difficult to write with a pencil that's all gross and caked with blood. Use stakes like normal people.) Oh, and Willow turned into some creepy, dead zombie thinger, and is now trapped in the basement, Oz and Buff's tubby asses keeping her down there while Spike braves the scary outdoors to get some chains. Hmm…chains…a must for EVERY camping trip. God knows I would have had more fun in the tick-infested woods if I could have chained my mother to a tree and waited for a bear to come and eat her. Umm…where was I? Oh…yes…Spike's gone out into the spooky darkness….oooooooooooooo! (Makes appropriate spooky noise.)

Part Seven

       Spike leaned against the door with a heavy sigh as soon as he closed it, taking a long, deep breath, trying to steel his nerves. He cast his eyes towards the trees, shuddering violently when he received the distinct impression that he was being watched.

       Buck up, mate…get the damned chains and get back indoors, he told himself firmly. He glanced left, and then right before making a run for the tool shed, adrenaline rushing through his veins the entire time. He slammed into the tool shed, kicking the door closed behind him. He panted unnecessarily as he leaned against the door, his eyes closed as he fought down his ill-timed panic. He scowled as he also forced himself to stop breathing like an asthmatic that had just run a 5K marathon. Now was definitely not the time to embrace his human-like foibles. He had to remain focused, calm and collected; once he had chained the thing that once been Willow up in the basement, he could give in to the unmanly like urge to scream like a ten-year-old girl and run about the cabin, flailing his arms in full-blown terror.  Because, unlike the other, non-demon Scoobs…he wouldn't be able to leave once daylight came.

       He shoved that entirely too sobering and horror-inducing thought out of his mind as he peered around the shed, squinting in the darkness, half-expecting something to jump out at him.

       Stop being such a pathetic sod, mate, he told himself disgustedly, you've seen things that would make the even the bravest man's balls shrink up into his body and his hair to turn white with fright…now, stop acting like a squeamish girl and get a MOVE on, already!

       He nodded decisively, and ventured slowly away from the door. He jumped when something brushed against his face, and he snorted in disgust at the flare of panic that hopped up inside him. He reached up and tugged on the string that had touched his cheek and a single, bare bulb lit up. The light barely touched the deep shadows of the shed, and he took a second to peer into all corners, feeling as though something was watching him again.

       He saw the chains Oz had mentioned before, laying beneath a work bench at the far end of the shed and he grabbed them up, slinging them over his shoulders. He also grabbed a padlock off of the bench.  He took another precious moment to look around, seeing if there was anything he could use for a weapon. His eyes settled on a chainsaw hanging above the workbench and he started to reach for it when he heard Buffy desperately screaming his name from the cabin.

       He immediately forgot about the chainsaw and lifted the chains away from his feet so that he could make a swift, distressed flight back towards the cabin and his shrieking, terrified mate.

       She had been waiting, that much was obvious.

       Down below, Willow hadn't attempted to escape again; instead, it had sounded as if she had taken a seat on the stairs below Buffy and Oz, and had seemed to be content to giggle creepily and mutter unintelligible things to herself.

       Buffy had thought it safe to move off of the trapdoor to help Cordelia move Xander into one of the bedrooms. The boy had gone into shock after Willow's vicious attack on him, and he would have been better off lying down in a bed then having to listen to the…thing downstairs. However, the second Willow had heard her move off of the trapdoor, she struck.

        She slammed into the door with enough force that Oz, caught off guard, had rolled off, and she was halfway out of the basement before they could even react.

       “SPIKE!” Buffy shouted as she kicked non-Willow in her withered gray face, trying to drive her back into the basement. Oz was lying on top of the door again, her legs trapped underneath it so that she couldn't crawl out even farther, but it was proving difficult to get her back downstairs. “SPIKE! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW!”

       “Oh…God…oh…God…” Xander scrambled over Cordelia, and then falling to the ground as he dragged his useless ankle along the ground as he crawled to press himself into the corner, trying to get away whatever had taken residence in his best friend's body. Cordelia, for her part, was frozen, staring at Willow's white, rolling, rapid eyes as she attempted to grab at the Slayer dancing around her, trying to avoid her gnashing teeth and grasping claws.

       On an ill-timed kick, Willow snagged Buffy's ankle and jerked the feet right out from beneath Buffy. She crashed to the ground, stunned as the wind was knocked out of her and Willow cackled as she dug her nails into Buffy's pants legs and dragged the Slayer towards her.

       Spike burst through the front door right then, and he immediately sprang into action when he saw Buffy was in danger. He dropped the chains from around his shoulders and grabbed the ax that was lying on the floor. Using the blunt end, he struck Willow upside the head, her skull caving in with a squishy THACK! Willow shrieked as she let go of Buffy's leg and the Slayer clambered out of her reach before she could attempt to grab her once more. Spike dropped the ax and grabbed Willow by the air and Oz lifted the door so that the vampire could toss the still-stunned demon down into the basement below.

       There were several sickening `crunch' sounds as Willow's body crashed down the stairs, but it was universally ignored as Buffy and Oz both hopped back on top of the trapdoor again. Spike swiftly threaded the chains through the nails half-sticking out of the floor, and pulled them tight