Rage Phase

Xander was angry. Furious. No other primal emotion connected so well with him, and with every passing thought, passing second, he only got angrier. The storm in him was a malignant fury. Not only did Xander’s insurance plan for Kendra to back him up blow up in his face, but the cold realization of a one-month loop hit Xander hard. Three weeks and two days was the longest he’s ever gotten away from Halloween and all the hours of sweat and labor he put into helping his friends and forging his sword were completely erased.

“Gone!” he yelled in his bed. He leaped off the mattress and paced in his dirty room to try and calm down, but only got more worked up.

Xander was angrier than he’s ever been. He was angry at his parents and tossed his Lion-O action figure against the wall. The way it smashed against the wall and broke into several scattered pieces gave him a little satisfaction. It wasn’t enough. He was angry at Buffy, Willow, and Giles, and Xander threw three more action figures against the wall. The hot-headed teen was especially angry at Kendra, at the Watchers, at Angel, at Spike, at everyone in the town of Sunnydale, and at the hellhole underneath them that these demons wanted to crawl out of. With every entry on his hate list, he destroyed something else in his room.

Xander’s chaotic mind heard a quote from his Sherlock memories. A detail he’d rarely remember if not for how angry he felt. ‘No beast is more savage than man when possessed with power answerable to rage.’ As if such a line would calm him down. No, Xander ignored it in favor of everything he felt.

With loud grunts, the furious Xander shoved every comic book, trading card, book, board game, or magazine off of every surface in his room. He grabbed the back edge of his bookshelf filled with VHS tapes and heaved the entire thing to the floor. He kicked holes through his closet doors and tossed his television out of the window. Xander was more than furious. He was enraged. After getting so far, doing so much, working so hard, he was certain he’d be out of the time braid if he just made it out of a month. But now, having to start all over, hurt him to the bone. Xander was too angry to see or fuck anyone. He couldn’t contain how much he wanted to destroy more than his room had to offer.

‘No,’ he thought. ‘More than simply destroying something.’

Xander wanted whatever he demolished to be remembered and stay destroyed. He wanted permanent destruction, however, he felt the line between that dark desire. It felt so alluring to want to burn the world that’s so unforgiving and gleeful in his torment, but he’d been warned of such things; the slow decay into madness began there. Instead, Xander spent three day-loops locked in his room fighting the building urge to act on his rage, then wallowing in frustration, then despair, then rage again, and then in frustration again; a terrible emotional loop of his own.

Xander’s chaotic mind heard a quote from his Sherlock memories. A detail he’d rarely remember if not for how angry he felt. ‘No beast is more savage than man when possessed with power answerable to rage.’ As if such a line would calm him down. No, Xander ignored it for everything he felt.

Eventually, in the silence of his once-again destroyed room, Xander couldn’t take it anymore. He simply decided on violence, and didn’t bother with a costume. He started with Larry at school. Xander walked the Halloween-decorated halls and kept to himself. He ignored everyone and avoided Willow, Buffy, Giles, Cordelia, and even Ms. Calendar until the ill-fated time Larry approached him. As before, the jock asked how easy Buffy was, and at the memory of his slayer, love, and hero refusing to believe him, Xander shoved Larry back.

“Oooohhh,” a few of Larry’s friends sounded. Larry himself only stepped back a few steps, then laughed with his friends.

A circle of spectators was forming around them as the geek glared at the much larger boy. Larry played football with Doug Jeffries and other larger players, and easily cleared Xander’s physique by four inches and an extra thirty or forty pounds. Xander loosened his shoulders and wrists, making Larry, Doug, and the rest laugh at the social outcast’s audacity.

Larry stepped forward and didn’t even raise his hands as he happily proclaimed, “I’m going to enjoy this, Harris.”

Side-faced with his hands up, the silently fuming Xander stoically returned, “You better not disappoint.”

In an effort to help Larry take this as seriously as Xander wanted, the geek jabbed Larry in the nose quicker than the jock could react, surprising everyone. Larry shook his head, then checked his nose to make sure he’d been hit. Xander knew he was weaker than before he looped back, but he felt his muscles more acutely. It was as if every muscle fiber was functioning efficiently. In the center of the silent crowd, Xander hit Larry with another quick jab, and that sent the jock into a fury; exactly what Xander wanted.

To get out all the rage he’d been building since the start of the time braid, Xander wanted a bloody brawl, but it was evident Larry wouldn’t be the answer to his want. Larry’s right swing wasn’t slow, but it was wide and predictable, and Xander’s entire body reacted in the most fluid motion. His head effortlessly slipped the high-velocity punch, and the geek’s right fist countered with an unsuspecting uppercut to the chin. The high concentration of densely packed nerves along the jaw sent an overwhelming flood of pain signals to the brain, and Larry dropped like a sack of potatoes.

The crowd was stunned into silence. The larger, tougher, and popular Larry was knocked out on the floor in an awkward position, and the dark-haired social outcast didn’t even break a sweat. As Doug and the others helped Larry to his wobbly feet, Xander turned his back and walked away. The crowd of students parted, and the stoic boy saw Buffy and Willow, stunned like the others by what they witnessed.

At the sight of Buffy, any amount of burning energy he might’ve expelled fighting Larry returned twice as much. Seeing her made him want to turn around and beat Larry to a bloody pulp, but he felt that wouldn’t be enough. Walking past the Slayer, Xander knew fighting demons and vampires was the only way to satisfy this insatiable hunger. His unaware friends followed him, of course, and asked every question that popped into their heads.

“What happened?” Buffy wanted to know.

“What did Larry say?” Willow asked.

“Since when did you learn to throw a punch?” Buffy continued.

“Where are you going?”

“Uh, how come you’re not saying anything?”

“Xander? Are you cutting school? What about your attendance record?”

Xander ignored them as he walked out of the school. They barely felt real to him, as if nothing they said mattered. They would always forget. Xander waited for six o’clock. Just like his first attempts at seducing women, Xander was outside his wheelhouse in this too and was horrible when attempting it on his own. All his noxious rage wanted to do was beat anything bloody with bare fists, however, against stronger & faster demons and vampires running around after the curse started, his lack of skill wasn’t effective. Xander died fast, but gained some semblance of reason.

In the following loop, he ran around Sunnydale looking for the best locations and opponents to fight, then made a list. Xander would begin with a single vampire, then a single demon, work his way up through multiple vampires & demons, and at the top of the kill-list stood Spike. The blond vampire may have had nothing to do with what happened, but fighting Buffy wasn’t possible, to begin with, as she wouldn’t know why or go all out against him. Spike was a much lower dangling fruit to pick a fight with.

After picking a random vampire, Xander died fairly fast without a weapon. After a dozen day-loops of Xander trying to beat the vampire like he would a video game villain, the young warrior memorized fifteen moves before his stake eventually found its heart. In the process of blocking bone-crushing blows, getting cut from dodging fast fists, being tossed, and nearly breaking his fists punching the hard jaw of the monster, the heaving boy felt a little better when he dusted it. Out of curiosity, Xander tried Achilles on the vampire in the following loop and wasn’t surprised to witness the legendary warrior decimate the vampire in two seconds.

‘Oh, come on,’ Xander yelled from within his mind. ‘He’s a Demi-God! Of course he’d be faster and stronger than a vampire!’

However, Xander couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t see the same success, even if he wasn’t as strong as a slayer. With a sword and shield, Xander tried the same slip and stab movement Achilles had done, and the teenager was embarrassed and dumbfounded to have killed the vampire just as fast. It took him fifteen moves of what Achilles could do in two.

When he thought the Achilles’ mental pattern within was smiling, Xander yelled, “It’s a sword and shield! I was using a toothpick! They’re completely different!”

Like with Casanova and Eitri, Xander observed Achilles’ efficiency in combat with a single-minded purpose. He witnessed the legendary warrior kill a single vampire or demon with a sword, with two swords, a stake, a shield, and bare-handed. Then he’d attempt the same fight, with the same conditions, on his own. Achilles could maneuver and attack with ease, and Xander would take nearly nine day-loops to mimic a similar result with each style of fight. When Achilles moved on to multiple vampires and demons, Xander was in awe of the man’s creativity in combat.

Achilles never panicked and his quick footwork, agile body movements, and keen awareness were second to none. Even in a group of vampires or demons, he wouldn’t be alarmed or negative from a claw cutting his skin or punches connecting with his body. He simply kept moving, dodging, and striking all of their vulnerabilities with any weapon. When Xander tried, it was laughable how different he was from Achilles, but he didn’t quit. He had too much rage storming in him to stop.

Xander repeated Halloween day for what felt like months, failing to varying degrees. Initially, he’d die from the second monster of the supernatural group to surround him, distracting him or delivering the killing blow. Worrying about multiple opponents sneaking up on him was absurdly challenging, and Xander had to discern what he couldn’t see by sound alone, as Achilles does. The sounds of rustling cloth, the scratching of shoes against pavement or grass, and their grunting. Xander had to be cognizant of every opening he created with every maneuver, as well as the enemy in the position to take advantage.

It was a long process, but slowly, Xander became better with every batch of loops. The moment he understood his footwork and grasped everything within his surroundings, the young warrior could work on mimicking the same combat creativity Achilles displayed. With enough loops, Xander could flow in any direction without losing his footing, as if he were floating. With more loops, he could parry and counter effortlessly. Just like with his smithing, the precise expression of his body’s movements was improving by leaps and bounds.

Xander was still physically weak, but he used that to his advantage and ran when needed. Armed with a sword, an axe, or stakes, Xander only needed technique and creativity to beat three vampires or certain demons at the same time. Like flowing water, he could maneuver around their expected fast strikes, take punches, kicks, or throws, and always be ready with several counterattacks. As he knew, more or less, what most of them would do, Xander worked his way up from a single random vampire to a group of them, then to the toughest one in town; Spike.

Xander could feel it when Spike’s heavy fist dislocated his jaw and dislodged his teeth; The slim, bleach-blond vampire lived to fight and the teen warrior lost continuously against the vampire. Against Achilles, Spike could do nothing. Though it would be a tougher battle, Achilles would always win because he’d effortlessly adapt to Spike’s tactics in ways the vampire couldn’t predict. Unfortunately, mimicking the Achilles’ sequence of moves didn’t lead Xander to the same results. The teen could slip or dodge several fast punches and kicks, but unlike many vampires, Spike adapted. Even armed, the much-too-human Xander simply couldn’t compete with the vampire’s combination of speed, power, and natural fighting ability.

Not that the stubborn boy cared.

He didn’t feel as furious as he had at the beginning of this detour, however, he still had plenty of drive to take out the boss. Xander imagined Spike was the final boss to beat in a vicious arcade game. Despite the bone-fracturing impact of blocking Spike’s blows, or the momentary loss of consciousness from a well-landed punch, the drive to murder the vampire always picked the young warrior back up. The look on Spike’s face when hurting Xander smiled a bloody smile, always shocked him, then excited him, and it made Xander want to fight harder.

Normally, Xander fought Spike outside, however, sometimes he’d fight him in the warehouse. Buffy was being held hostage while he battled it out with the vampire. It very nearly made him feel like Mario fighting the monstrous Bowser to rescue Princess Peach. With all the fluid footwork and matching agility he’s learned, Xander could slip a series of his punches before countering with a stake in one hand and an axe in the other. Though the young warrior enjoyed using a sword, Xander learned Spike could disarm him more often with it than he could when he held an axe. Additionally, the gulf of the axe allowed him to hook & pull Spike’s limbs and neck if need be.

Spike could dodge the axe and Xander would spin with the motion to stab Spike’s leg with the stake in his left hand. Xander absolutely needed to slow the vampire’s movements by cutting and stabbing his less protected legs. As expected, Spike shoved him away, and though it hurt to hit the stone floor, Xander rolled onto his feet. Spike charged the teen, who made the vampire keep his distance with measure swings from his tomahawk axe.

As expected, the blond would block and grapple, forcing Xander to strike low to get the vampire to let go. Spike only growled at the stake stabbed into his side before punching Xander’s guard. Despite his arm between his face and Spike’s heavy punch, Xander was instantly in a daze and his forearm felt broken. Still, Xander twisted the stake shoved in Spike’s side before being shoved back. Rolling onto his feet, Xander saw his stake still embedded above Spike’s hip.

The vampire snarled as he ripped it out, then yelled, “Once I get done ripping your annoying little head from your bloody body, I’m going to take my time torturing your little slayer. I’m going to string ‘er up and slice her stomach open and let her watch her insides turn into outsides.”

Slack-bodied, a gasping, sweaty, and bloodied Xander lied, “I saw Drusilla… kissing Angel.” He gripped his axe tighter as he continued, “Wait… You call it snogging. She looked… really into it, too. Guess you don’t… really do it for her.”

Snarling, Spike sprinted as he yelled, “You right bloody fucking tosser-”

Spike charged, and the men fought to the best of their abilities. Xander felt this was his moment. Even if he had to sacrifice his left arm to hack at Spike’s neck, he was going to win. Xander screamed when Spike broke his left arm, but the vampire then screamed when Xander shoved the long tooth of his tomahawk into the curve of his neck. Spike punched him in the face, dazing Xander and making him blind in one eye, then pulled the axe out. In frustration, the vampire tossed the bloody weapon to the side as the teen dropped to one knee.

On the floor, Xander felt strong hands wrap around his neck and squeeze, cutting off circulation. Though he couldn’t see, he knew Spike was over him from the blood that was dripping on his face. Xander’s one working hand felt its way up the arm, the bloody neck, then the face of Spike. Though Xander lost a finger to Spike’s sharp fangs, the screaming teen’s thumb managed to gouge out the vampire’s yellow eye and connective veins. Spike let go of the teen’s neck to cover his injury desperately.

After tossing the eyeball, Xander crawled over to Spike and got on top of the defensive vampire. Shoving his fingers into the gash at his neck, making Spike groan loudly, Xander then head-butted the man under him. With no other weapon, he would use his forehead to smash in his face. Xander was numb to the pain by that point, and any time Spike tried to stop it, Xander’s right hand would push deeper into his neck wound, paralyzing the vampire’s movement.

For the last vestiges of righteous fury still in him, a lethargic Xander would raise his head and bring it down with all his remaining might. For being trapped in a time braid and forced into the pains of growing up against his will, he head-butted Spike again. For being stupid and trusting people when he already knew they always let him down, he smashed his fractured skull against the motionless vampire’s. For his powerlessness as a person and the unexceptional future everyone seems all too eager to accept—including himself—Xander screamed from the core of his very being as he smashed their blood-splattered heads together again.

When Spike no longer moved under him, Xander slowly toppled over.

The bloodied teen couldn’t think or see well. This rage phase may have been six or seven hundred day-loops, but Xander finally rendered Spike motionless; though clearly not dead or he would’ve looped. The feverish teenager felt agony from breathing with several broken ribs, and he certainly had internal bleeding, as it felt like his stomach was leaking into his leg. His knuckles were broken, his left arm was paralyzed, and his legs had no energy in them. One eye was swollen shut, and the other was getting there. Xander’s nose was broken and bleeding profusely, while his bottom lip was ripped and a few teeth were missing.

Looking up at the dark and dirty ceiling of the closed warehouse, Xander felt cold, drained, and finally ready to stop. The slowly dying teen assumed the Janus curse ended when Buffy rushed into his limited and blurry vision. Dressed in her 18th-century gown, the gorgeous blonde was in tears. His slow mind recalled her in tears when she refused to believe him about Angel. However, this time, she looked fearful and devastated as she cried for him. It felt as if he hadn’t seen her in such a long time; like he’d been clenching a tight fist for hours until he could finally relax his grip.

Cordelia and Angel faded in and out of his vision, but he could only see his crying best friend looking over his injuries, saying something he couldn’t hear to the others. His hearing was gone and his vision was darkening. Seeing his friends in the one-day loop didn’t even count as really seeing them, however, moments like this always touched him. Despite the endless repetition, these moments felt like a first and that made them precious.

At the sight of the fading golden head, it was the first time in a long while that he thought, ‘I miss you.’ With the pitiful strength in his right arm, he could barely raise his hand, but she grabbed it and rubbed it against her cheek, dirtying it with blood and grime, as he wondered, ‘Why won’t you love me instead?’

Then it all went dark.

Xander woke up in his bed, and despite the smell, he felt less angry than he had been for so many loops. The teenager decided to move on again, beginning with work at the forge. He got Ethan to make him an Avalonian elf costume instead of Eitri’s and would pick the elf’s memories during the chaos of the curse and after. He learned a few runes that Eitri didn’t know, but the circular characters looked much harder to hammer into metal and expect to stretch to form than the Norse runes. Nearly every symbol had long looping curves to them and needed to be etched with a chisel and inlaid with magical gold or silver. As the effects of elf runes wouldn’t be any more different from Norse runes, Xander stuck with Eitri’s knowledge.

Standing outside of Ethan’s Costume Shoppe, Xander only stared at the store for the second straight day-loop. Though he decided to move forward into the one-week loop, he couldn’t deny feeling nervous. Somehow, Xander didn’t feel ready to enter that world just yet. He didn’t think he could fake it with Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, Giles, Jenny, or anyone well enough. So, for the time being, he broke into Dinks to work on his hammer strikes until they sounded nearly identical to the elf’s.

When he achieved all he could, Xander spoke to Merlin once again, as he was the only one who could communicate with him and understand the fastest. The legendary warlock helped Xander nearly as much as Ethan, guiding him on how to visualize the metal vessels for magic, and helping him stay sane. Walking around the streets of Sunnydale, setting monsters to sleep, Xander explained everything that’s happened to him thus far, then what happened with Buffy and Angel. He didn’t have a question, exactly. He simply needed someone to talk to.

“Men are simple creatures,” Merlin counseled. “We are capable of surviving this life with no more than three situations; A purpose, a family, and the love of a good woman. Simple though it might sound, it holds more than enough meaning for many of us. It is why I have no doubt when you reach your end days, you'll look upon the grand sum of your life—with all that you have accomplished—and feel a great sense of accomplishment.”

It was really nice having someone to help guide him the way Giles guided Buffy. Xander never had that. His parents had given that up when he was five, and as much as he liked Pete and the boys at Dinks, they were more like great work-friends. Merlin’s words were the little bit of hope Xander needed to move on—to get to that end—and the very first thing he did with this newfound sliver of hope was locate Ted. Xander wanted no more surprises when he reached the week and month loops, and Ted was still bugging him.

‘If he checks out, I’ll keep going,’ Xander thought.

Without remembering the man’s car or last name, the teenager simply called Joyce. He recalled they met through work and Xander has impersonated enough personas to get the information he needed from her. The chameleon teen pretended to be an intern at the local radio station that needed to verify information.

In a soft voice, Xander asked, “Good afternoon, my name is Luke and I work for KZNQ, 101.5 FM. Am I speaking to a Ms. Joyce Summers?”

She hesitated a moment before answering, “Uh, yes, you are. May I ask what this is about?”

“Of course,” Xander softly voiced. “Before that, may I ask, are you currently dating a Mr. Ted?”

“I, uh, well.” She chuckled a moment before responding, “We’ve gone out on a few dates at the moment, but, yes, we are seeing each other.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Xander softly cooed. “At the moment, we’re speaking with Ted on the air, and he’s been saying so many lovely things about you. He seems like a real sweet fella and quite a number of listeners are eager to know if he has a shot or not. Not to make you uncomfortable, but would you consent to joining the conversation?”

Joyce seemed taken aback by it all, but fortunately, seemed willing to help, and answered, “I… suppose.”

“Lovely! For security purposes, can you tell us his last name?” Xander asked. He chuckled as he explained, “We want to be sure we’re talking about the same Ted after all.”

“I… certainly, Buchanan,” she told Xander. “Ted Buchanan.”

“Right,” Xander confirmed with a hum, as he wrote it down on a scrap sheet of paper. “He said you met through work. What’s the name of his place of employment?”

“Lorrin Software,” she answered.

“And the general area he lives in?” Xander asked. “We don’t need specifics. The city or zip code would be fine.”

“Sunnydale,” she answered, then Xander hung up.

It wasn’t everything he wanted, but it was more than enough to go on. From there, it took Xander a few loops to ascertain where Ted lived. It was a powder-blue, two-story house with a white picket fence, and upon breaking in, Xander noticed the home was relatively bare. Simple furniture barely looked used, and there were little to no pictures up. Of the four rooms upstairs, only the master bedroom had clothes in the closet. The small wardrobe and presence made the Sherlock side of his brain deduce it was all a façade to conceal something nefarious.

In the next loop, Xander followed the suspicious man on a bike he’d stolen to a bunker thirty minutes outside of town. Unable to learn anything more, Xander went straight to the bunker in the following loop. Upon entering the underground room, the truth about Ted finally revealed itself. Inside the spacious and old chamber, the teenager saw a line of file cabinets against the walls filled with notes and schematics. There were many fading blueprints of humanoid robotics on the walls, a rectangular, metal charging station one would lie on, and a long repair bench with tools and spare robot parts. Xander found it all; the true Ted Buchanan.

“Holy shit,” Xander cursed, looking around the dusty room. “Ted’s a robot!”

Old Man Xander’s memories vaguely remembered coming across a few robots. Ted was one of them, and the Buffybot Spike commissioned for his sexual gratification was another. Most of the robots were evil, some were dangerous due to faulty programming, and some were helpful. When Xander found a cold room with the deceased remains of seven women, Xander knew which type of robot Ted fell under and the danger he posed to Joyce and Buffy.

After spending a few hours in the mini-factory, Xander learned that the original Ted Buchanan was an unsuccessful inventor from the 1950s. He learned he was dying and his wife left him. Xander noted that the photo of his wife resembled Joyce—dirty-blonde, brown eyes, very pretty—as did the seven victims in the freezer. The sickly inventor then created a robotic duplicate of himself to be a better Ted for the woman who left him. Robo-Ted was programmed to be the perfect husband for his wife so that she would never leave him.

“Talk about creepy on a level I never knew existed,” Xander mouthed to himself as he set down the last letter human Ted wrote. Like a light flickering in his head, the teen suddenly remembered, “What the hell am I talking about? Spike totally made the Buffybot for the same reason. Uuggthh.”

Xander continued reading about Ted’s programming, and with Sherlock’s help, deduced that the robot kidnapped Ted’s ex-wife rather than be the perfect husband and kept her in the bunker until she died. Robo-Ted then continued executing the same directives; go out into the world, maintain the illusion of a stable man, trick women back to his bunker, then keep them there to play the dutiful wife. No one would find these poor women, and when they eventually die, he’d start the entire process again.

“Seven total,” he voiced, looking at the frozen bodies in disgust and sadness. Imagining Joyce laying frozen with them made him shake his head with resolve. “Don’t worry Ms. S. I got you.”

After Xander left the bunker, he confronted the machine himself. He bought a sledgehammer and walked into the software office building. With the hammer resting on his shoulder, Xander ignored the businessmen ordering him to leave the premises. The teen was on a mission and searched cubicle after cubicle until he finally found the mild-mannered man looking at him in confusion. Like everyone else, the machine had no recollection of ever meeting Xander.

With a good grip on the sledgehammer’s handle, Xander raised the hammer, loaded his back leg, twisted with his hips, and swung the heavy weapon as Ted stood up. Xander brought the blunt metal down hard on the man’s head, denting the metal skull underneath, and the office erupted in pandemonium. The screams and frightened cries of horror nearly made Xander smile.

Someone tried to stop Xander as he heard another yell, “Call 911!”

Xander easily rotated his body to twist the arms holding him and force them to lose their grip on him. Ted tried to move, but it was clear from the mechanical trembling that something was malfunctioning. Xander took another swing, and the skin from his face came off with the power of the strike, showing the metal skull and wires underneath. The four office workers tried to stop Xander, but he rotated his body—making it hard for them to grab him—and used the long handle of the sledgehammer to twist the arms holding him into letting go while his feet kicked the knees and shins. With one more strike to the head, Ted lost enough function to finally deactivate.

As sparks popped off from the robotic remains, Xander egged the police on to arrest him for destroying a robot no one owned. “It’s a robot!” he yelled as they cuffed him. They brought the delinquent teen to the station for assault and disturbing the peace. In their cold interrogation room, the silent Xander was finally ready to try escaping the time braid again and simply waited to loop back.

Xander dressed as Casanova in the next loop and walked into Ms. Calendar’s classroom moments before the curse activated.