The Mighty Belthazor

The Source grunted in pain as he used his telekinesis to pull the pull the bullets from his back, flinging them across the chamber. The wounds from the gun and being crushed by the dumpster weren't fatal by a long shot, but he'd have to summon a healer to treat them.

He'd failed. And he'd been exposed. He couldn't return to the school not, not in this form. But he wasn't finished there yet.

The Seer rayed into his chamber. "I'm beginning to wonder if you can handle your new mantle of power," she said.

"Are you questioning my leadership?" the Source snapped.

"No," the Seer said smoothly. "You inherited the world's evil, I'll follow that anywhere."

"But?"

"Belthazor. He's still alive inside you and he loves the witch," the Seer pointed out. "And his feelings for the vampire affected your judgment tonight."

"I know," he snapped. "I can feel it."

"When you were a demon," the Seer persisted, "his feelings ruined more than one good plan."

"It's different now," the Source said. "Belthazor's voice used to scream inside my head. Now it's just a whisper."

The Seer nodded. "As soon as the Wiccan Festival of Lights has passed and the moon is waning, the time will be right for your coronation. Upon completion of the oath, you will be given the full powers of the underworld."

"And then nothing will stop me from taking what I want," the Source said, finally smiling for the first time in hours.

The Seer gave the Source a concerned look, but nodded obediently.

A muffled thud woke Bel in the middle of the night. Phoebe refused to wake up and investigate, despite how hard he willed her to do so, so Bel climbed from the bed and wandered out of the bedroom to see what the cats had done. In the near darkness he could make out Valkyrie and Seraphim sitting on the couch, looking up at him innocently despite the lamp that was knocked over on to the floor.

"Bad cats," Bel grumbled, picking up the lamp and setting it on the table where it belonged. He began to head back to the bedroom, eager to return to softness, warmth, and girlfriend. ( He didn't make it. )

Bel was glad the weekend was over.

Friday night, Phoebe had gone out to spend some time with Lana. But she didn't come home. After checking with Jim and finding that Lana hadn't come home that night, either, he'd gone looking for them. He didn't find them, but he did run into a group of trolls in town. When his fireballs had proven ineffective, and as he quickly realized they were as strong or stronger than he, he'd made a tactical retreat back to the school, joining the fighting there. Unfortunately, he was knocked out, but Anders had dragged him to safety.

The next morning, after the Doctor had announced they'd found the location of the trolls' captives, he'd immediately shimmered there to rescue Phoebe. Unfortunately, the females trolls looked deceptively innocent, and they'd knocked him out and tucked him away. When he'd finally awaken, he'd staggered out and found Phoebe, shimmering her and Blair to safety. Then he'd gone back to work out a little aggression on the trolls, before heading back to the dorms. Phoebe reassured him she was fine, but he still was upset he hadn't been able to better protect her or find her sooner.

He was pacing his room, still agitated, when flames surrounded him, and he felt the irresistible pull of a summons to the Underworld. He let the flames take him, unsurprised when he found himself before Raynor.

( In the Underworld.... )

After fighting (again) with Phoebe, Bel decided to deal with it the best way he knew how.

He shimmered to the Underworld. Some wiser part of him might've warned it was a stupid, dangerous idea, but that part was overwhelmed with emotion and couldn't be heard. If he was caught here, he was dead . . . or worse.

That same wiser part knew he was was being a fool in more ways than one, but he was too stubborn to back down. He'd spent all his life being controlled, and he didn't want to do that anymore. He was free now, free to do whatever he wanted. He didn't answer to anyone.

So now he stalked through the tunnels of his former home, listening and waiting. When he heard footsteps, he smiled to himself. Now he could have some fun.

This was where he belonged, after all. This was what he was. Demon. Killer.


[ooc: NFB due to distance.]