AN: Happy Halloween, here's something quick for the day.
Alexander Lavelle Harris was not having a good day.
His help in fighting vampires a few days before left him banged up, and then Buffy came to his "rescue" when thing went horribly wrong and the damnable vending machine fell over and broke his feet.
Of course, Snyder blamed him for it, claiming that he was trying to steal from it.
In the end, even unable to walk he'd been corralled into escorting kids around for Halloween.
And glancing through the costume shop, he was rejecting some of the options he'd been limited to with his temporarily wheelchair bound condition There wasn't a way in hell that he'd shave his head for the Professor X look, and there really wasn't that much in the way of options.
It was then that something caught his science fiction influenced eye, not to mention his current mood...
As his purchases were rung up at the counter, Ethan and anyone with the slightest bit of common sense felt a shiver up their spine and a nagging feeling that it might be a good idea to go on a vacation for the weekend. Being Sunnydale, that feeling was globally ignored.
Willow Rosenburg would have said that her blood froze as she darted down the street if it were not for the fact that she was currently a ghost.
Xander would be the closest, and it would be helpful to have help that could actually touch things since the town went crazy on her.
She paused as the form of something similar to what her friend had dressed as over the wheelchair he'd been stuck in for the past few days, but the darkness made it difficult to see the details to confirm.
That was when there was a sound of something turning and lights flared to reveal something horrifying that spoke to her but one word.
"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"
It was frantic and distorted into a nightmarish screech as it seemed to almost chant the word again and again as the mini-monsters were revealed by the flashing lights it had upon the armored form that seemed almost a deranged parody of a pepper shaker from her grandmothers table.
Bodies lay everywhere as the little creatures seemed to regain their courage to attempt a new assault, or perhaps to have an easy meal of the scattered corpses.
The machine, or whatever it was, opened fire and more bodies joined those already upon the cold cement.
"EX-PLAIN!" it demanded while advancing, the mode of locomotion something she couldn't begin to figure out even as two shots of its weapon passed through her, "WHY ARE YOU NOT TER-MIN-ATE-ED?"
She ran for it then, passing through walls and cars to get the hell away from this nightmare even as its monstrous cry echoed through the clear autumn night.
"EX-TER-MIN-ATE! ANN-I-HAL-ATE! DES-TROY!"
"Spike," Drusilla almost sang, "The alien pepper pot is playing such beautiful music and the screams in chorus are so wondrous."
William the Bloody began to wonder if he could look into some of the human anti-psychotics as her rambling got stranger and stranger.
Eventually he excused himself for a smoke only to blink at the figure levitating its way down the street.
"Homicidal pepper pots indeed...," were the last words he managed to get out before the creature passed by, "...hey, wait up!"
After all, even demonic bloodsuckers needed inspiration from time to time...
Richard Wilkins stood there on the balcony watching what, to him, was an early judgment day meant to end all of his plans.
Other than a brief detour in which this thing apparently knocked over the snack counter at a gas station for some Twinkies, it was heading right for him and he still hadn't seen it.
As a deranged alien came into view a small part of him half wanted to find a doctor of some sorts and he didn't know why.
Giles mad dash to the costume shop ended with a gasp as he saw his former friend laying there screaming his head off.
"How do I stop this, Ethan?"
"Can't, it took it..."
"What took what?"
"The bust, I didn't know it would be here, but the bust would have ended it and it knew that."
Rupert blinked as he processed what was said.
"Who took it?"
"Not who, what..."
"What then..." he was gritting his teeth in frustration while keeping from pounding the badly injured figure before him, and that answer shocked him.
"Dalek!"
"My god," the Watcher stammered while leaning back against a, mostly, intact counter, "What have you done this time Ethan?"
If he was going down, then this thing would go with him.
The most powerful spell to get rid of an enemy that he could think of after attack ones proved useless against a shield of some sort.
As the last syllable started to form from his lips, the Daleks attack ended it and the magic went awry sending the creature into the void and far away.
Fortunately, he didn't have a broken foot now.
Unfortunately, Xander added a moment later while trying to keep back the homicidal impulses that still surged through his mind, he was in a Dalek body complete with armor and everything.
That everything did include a barely containable obsession with annihalating anything that wasn't a Dalek.
A flash and a detected wormhole drew his attention as a pale faced humanoid with a blue tipped staff stepped out from the false water and began to speak.
"Hallowed are the Ori!"
His unstable mind only had a few responses to that.
"EX-TER-MIN-ATE! ER-RAD-I-CATE! ANN-I-HAL-ATE! DES-TROY!"